Best Served Cold
by only-some-loser
Summary: An eye for an eye, a son for a son. What is the worst pain? Is it feeling pain yourself, or watching someone you love suffer? They say revenge is a dish best served cold, and this recipe requires Jamie. Frank put away a lot of people in his day, and not everyone thanked him for it. An old case comes back to haunt him, nothing new, only this time, Jamie will be the one to suffer.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I got this idea the other day, and absolutely could not get it out of my head. This is my first multichapter Blue Bloods fic, and my first time writing most of the characters. I'm currently on season seven, but I've been binge watching a lot recently, so I know I'll be caught up pretty soon. The two big things that happen later in canon (I think in seasons eight and nine) I know about, so don't worry about accidentally spoiling them in reviews. This fic can really take place anywhere from season four through season seven, it really doesn't matter. I have no idea how long this is gonna be. The only thing I do know is that there is a glaring lack of Jamie whump, and I am here to fix that lol. I hope you enjoy this prologue, and please leave a review!**

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The police scanner was unnaturally quiet. It was New York City. The police scanner was never that quiet. And yet it was. That wasn't a problem. In fact, it actually made things easier. With not as many calls to respond to, it wouldn't be too difficult to make sure that the officers responding to his call would be the proper ones. He knew exactly where the Reagan brat and his partner were assigned to patrol that day, so calling in a situation close by would be easy. The little Reagan would be closest to respond, and then, he would be in his grasp. He didn't care about his partner, Janko, or whatever her name was. She didn't matter. Although, she was beautiful, and it would be a shame to take the life of someone possessing such beauty. He would avoid that if at all possible, but if she stood in the way of him and getting the Reagan boy, he would kill her if he needed to. Nothing was off the table.

He watched as a police car passed by the alley he stood in. Sure enough, it was carrying Reagan and Janko, just as it should've been. He pulled out his phone and prepared to make the call, ditching the police scanner into the dumpster as he did so. It wouldn't provide any more use.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I heard gunshots!" he shouted, loud enough to sound reasonably frantic, but not loud enough for passersby to hear him over the roar of the traffic. "Down the alley by the cafe off 14th Street!"

"Stay calm," the operator said. "Get out of the area and stay safe. What's your name?"

He hung up. There was no point in providing a false name, since the world would soon know his true one, but it wasn't as if he were really going to file the report, so there was no need for the conversation to continue.

Over the din of the traffic, he heard sirens, and smiled. The Reagan brat was on his way, getting ready to play hero. And maybe he was a hero, but that didn't matter. Frank was a villain, and he was ready to make the commissioner pay.

He clung to the wall of the alley, and put on his best face of fear. The squad car pulled up, and Reagan and Janko jumped out, hands on their holstered weapons.

"Did you call it in?" the boy asked.

"Yes, down there!" he shouted back, pointing down the alley. The officers nodded at each other, then started to jog down the alley.

"Eddie, get ready to call for backup," Reagan said. He didn't even have his weapon fully drawn yet. Neither did Janko. But that didn't matter, because he did, and the moment the kids were past him and focused down the alley, he fired twice, in rapid succession, one bullet striking Janko in the thigh, immediately taking her down, and the other hitting Reagan in the side.

He was good at this, he knew he didn't hit anything important enough to make either one of them die. The boy would die, but only at the opportune moment. The boy would suffer first, and Frank, and the rest of the Reagans, and NYC, and the whole damn world was going to see it.

Before Janko could get to her weapon, he kicked it out of her reach. She was much too injured to be able to retrieve it. Reagan was against the wall, getting his breath back, one hand clutching his wound. He drew his weapon with the other hand, and was bringing it up to fire, but the kid wasn't fast enough. One firm strike across the temple with his glock, and the boy was out like a light.

"Jamie!" the girl screamed. She started talking into her radio, asking for backup, but it didn't matter. He would be long gone by the time backup got there, and he was taking the Reagan boy with him.

The girl's effort was admirable. She was grunting and crying out in pain, but she was trying desperately to get to her weapon, which he had kicked across the alley.

"Let him go!" she screamed. But he didn't even turn to look back. He hefted the boy over a shoulder, mindless of the blood that would now stain his own clothes, and started walking down the alley. He was parked on the other side, just out of sight.

One hand opened the trunk of the car, and he dropped the boy into it. He made sure to grab all of the various weapons on his duty belt, like the pepper spray and the taser and everything else. The brat wouldn't be needing them anymore - actually, he really would be needing them, he just wouldn't be allowed to have them.

He pulled out of the back alley and quickly merged into the traffic, no one around him any the wiser. The drive was a decently long one, but every second was worth it, because every second he drove, he was one second closer to finally getting his revenge on Frank Reagan.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Sorry for the delay, school has been a bit crazier than I expected. But anyways, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

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"How about that!" Danny exclaimed with a smile, looking over the top of the computer monitor at Baez. "He confessed, and now the case is closed, and now I get to go home." He set the files down on his desk, then looked back up at Baez, who was grinning ear to ear, but seemed to be completely ignoring him. "What's that smile for? I'm happy too, but it's not like we caught the Zodiac."

Finally, Baez looked up at him, almost like she was surprised to see him or had forgotten he was there, then gave him an incredulous smile. "I'm sure you don't wanna hear about it."

"Is it the narcotics detective whose name you still won't give me?" Danny immediately asked in return. "Because you know I gotta make sure he's good enough." His phone began to ring, and he rolled his eyes. "You just got saved by the commissioner, so you better thank him next time you see him," he said upon reading the caller ID. Danny stood and took the call, walking to the hallway where he could hear his dad a bit better. "Hey, Dad, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he greeted.

"You need to come to St. Victor's. Linda's fine, don't worry about her," he replied, skipping all formalities.

"Wait, what's going on?" Danny asked, immediately stopping in his tracks, his eyes going wide. His dad only ever spoke like that when something was very, very wrong. If it wasn't Linda, was it the kids? Erin or Jamie? Nicki? Pops?

"I'll tell you when you get here," his dad replied. "Just get here. Room 304." He hung up.

Danny stared at his phone in disbelief. What was going on? Why was his dad insisting on not telling him over the phone? Shaking his head, Danny slid his phone back into his pocket and quickly walked out to his car, not even bothering to tell Baez. He'd tell her later.

The drive to St. Victor's was the longest twenty minutes of his life. His stomach was in knots, and his mind was racing. He couldn't bear something happening to his family. Yes, Pops was old, but not that old, and he was in good health. No one else had any outstanding medical issues, which meant that it was probably an accident of some kind. Clearly whoever it was wasn't fine, or else his dad would've just said that they were fine. But he didn't say they were fine. He didn't even say who it was. Danny rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. He needed to calm down. No matter what was going on, he wouldn't be any good to anyone if he was freaking out.

By the time he got to the hall where room 304 was, Danny was almost completely calm. Well, he was until he saw Erin, Pops, and his dad all standing outside the room. Where was Jamie?

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, his heart beginning to race once again. He glanced in the window, expecting to see Jamie in the hospital bed. Only Jamie wasn't there. It was his partner, Eddie Janko. Her leg was exposed, and there were bandages covering her thigh. "Where's Jamie?" he asked, his heart dropping. Jamie and Eddie were practically joined at the hip. There was no way that Eddie would be in the hospital without Jamie being right there by her side. The kid may not have been willing to admit it, but he was clearly in love with her. Even Danny could see that. "Don't tell me he's..." he trailed off, but everyone knew what he was thinking. Erin already had tears in her eyes.

His dad sighed, but he didn't look quite devastated enough for the worst to have happened. "We're not entirely sure what happened yet, but it appears as though whoever shot Officer Janko took Jamie with him when he fled the scene. There's no security cameras showing the incident, so we'll have to wait for her to wake up before we can find out what really happened. All we know as of now, is that Jamie is missing," he said.

"Well when's she gonna wake up?" Danny immediately asked. "You know how important the first few hours are in a kidnapping." He moved to open the door and walk into Eddie's room, but Linda stopped him with a hand on his arm. When had she joined them?

"She'll wake up on her own time," Linda gently said. "And besides, you're not gonna be the lead detective on this. Even I could tell you that. But, I'll try to let you talk to her first, instead of the other detectives."

She was totally right. It was against all protocols for a detective to work his own brother's kidnapping, and it was against protocol for a reason. That didn't comfort Danny at all. He was known for not following protocol and making up his own rules, and this would be no different. There was no way that he wasn't going to be a part of searching for Jamie and whoever took him - assuming that it was in fact a kidnapping; they wouldn't actually know until Eddie woke up - and putting that man in the ground. That was definitely against protocol, but Danny would look for any reason to take out any monster that hurt his little brother. He may not have shown it very often, but Jamie meant the world to him. His whole family did, but Jamie was his baby brother. He'd been looking out for the kid his whole life, and as proud of him as he was when Jamie decided to join the NYPD, it scared him too. Danny never had to worry about Erin quite as much, and that was the best part about Jamie being a lawyer. But Jamie hadn't been a lawyer in years, and now, he was just as much at risk as Danny.

Danny was brought back into reality by Linda's hand on his arm, gently guiding him to the waiting area. The chairs were as stiff and uncomfortable as they had always been, but Danny would wait there as long as it took for them to figure out what happened to Jamie. All he could do now was go crazy with worry. Erin was sitting close to their dad, his arm around her shoulders. She was looking up at the ceiling, clearly trying to get herself to calm down. Danny knew exactly what she was thinking, and he was thinking the same thing: they'd already lost one little brother, they absolutely could not - would not - lose another. But this was Jamie, he would be fine. He'd had hits put out on him twice before, and he was fine each time. This would be no different. No matter what was going on, Jamie was going to be fine. Aside from having the finest training the NYPD had to offer, he was a skilled boxer and had grown up with two big brothers. He knew how to take care of himself. He would be okay. He had to be okay.

The four of them sat there, along with the commissioner's detail, and time slipped away. Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours, which suddenly felt like seconds once again when a shout of "Jamie!" came from Eddie's room. Danny bolted upright and jogged into the room, getting there right behind Linda and another nurse.

"You're okay, you're safe, " Linda insisted while the other nurse messed with the IV and the various medical equipment in the room that Danny wouldn't even pretend to know the purpose of.

"No, Jamie, he took Jamie," Eddie insisted, her eyes blown wide as she clutched Linda's scrubs in her hands. The other nurse must have done something, because over the span of three seconds, Eddie looked considerably more calm. She let go of Linda and relaxed back against the pillow, but was still sitting up. "He took Jamie," she repeated, her eyes finally landing on Danny. He walked up to her and tried to keep himself calm, despite the emotions tearing up his heart.

"What happened?" he calmly asked. There were footsteps behind him, most likely his family, but he ignored them. He needed to focus on Eddie right now. Linda stepped away, hopefully to usher his family out of the room while he talked to Eddie. Having the commissioner there would likely not help her to remain calm as she spoke of what happened.

Eddie took a deep breath before starting. "Jamie and I were responding to a call of shots fired, but once we walked into the alley, the man who called it in shot at us. He got me in the leg, and Jamie in the side. I don't- I don't know if it hit his vest or not." She closed her eyes and took another breath, trying to calm herself down.

"It's okay, you're doing great," Danny said. He couldn't let his anger and fear out on Eddie. None of this was her fault. He saw the way she looked at his brother, so he knew that she would've done everything she could to protect him. Still, when she said that Jamie had been shot, his heart dropped, and it was all Danny could do to not toss the medical equipment around in anger and fear for his little brother.

"He kicked the gun away from me, then he- he hit Jamie, and tossed him over his shoulder. I called for backup, and then, I don't remember anything else," she said, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

"You lost a lot of blood," Linda chimed in. "But you're gonna be okay."

"But Jamie-"

"Will be okay too," Danny interrupted. "I'm not gonna rest until he's safe, okay? I'm gonna find him and bring him home, no matter what it takes. The detectives who are actually running the case will be here soon, and they're gonna sit you down with a sketch artist so we can get a look at this freak. I'll have Baez pull the call logs, and we'll figure out who this guy is, and hopefully, what he wants."

"I wanna help," Eddie replied, throwing the blankets off herself and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She immediately groaned in pain and stopped moving.

"What you need is rest," Linda said, helping Eddie back into bed. "It's gonna take a while for you to heal up, and I'm pretty sure Jamie would kill you himself if he found out you weren't taking care of yourself," she said with a smile, and that tone she always used to make Danny realize she was right. It seemed to work on Eddie too, but just like Danny, she wasn't the type to go down without grumbling.

"But I need to help him," she muttered. "He's my partner, my best friend, I can't leave him alone out there."

"I'm gonna find him," Danny said, gently taking Eddie's hand in his. "I'm gonna bring him home, I promise."

Making promises was something that cops were trained never to do. You can't ever promise to find a victim, or a killer, and making those promises only served to cause pain when they went unfulfilled. But this was Jamie. Danny hadn't been exaggerating when he said he wouldn't rest until he found his little brother. He knew full well that he would work himself to death looking for him, and that was fair anyway. If something happened to Jamie, then Danny deserved whatever he got from nonstop work. Jamie was his baby brother. It was Danny's job to look out for him and protect him. He hadn't been taking that job as seriously as he should have, and he would pay any price to atone for that.

Danny stood and left the room. He had to brief Baez and get her in the loop. She would probably complain at first, since it was against all protocol for them to work the case, but they would be working the case whether she or the bosses liked it or not, and after a minute of grumbling, she would help wholeheartedly, because Jamie was his little brother, and she understood what that meant.

"What did she say? What happened?" Erin asked, quickly stepping up to him.

"Jamie's been shot, and kidnapped, now I'm gonna go find him," he quickly replied, then turned away and started walking down the hall.

"You know you can't work this case," his dad called after him, but his voice lacked the authoritative tone it usually held when he was being serious. It sounded like he was only telling Danny that he couldn't work the case because he was supposed to, not because he actually thought that Danny would follow protocol.

"I know," Danny called back, but kept on walking. He could hear his grandpa saying something about "the good ol' days" and how protocol now was only getting in the way, but he didn't slow down to listen. He had a little brother to find.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Tbh, I have no idea how frequent updates are going to be. They shouldn't be too much longer than they have been, but with my schedule and classes, I just can't guarantee a solid update schedule. But anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

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Awareness came back slowly. The first thing that Jamie felt was a dull pain low in his side. It felt fuzzy, but the pain was definitely there. The pain in his head was much sharper, and much more intense. What was going on? Opening his eyes was the hardest part, but it had to be done. His cop instincts were screaming at him that something was very wrong, and he needed to wake up and face it. The voice in his head telling him to open his eyes almost sounded like Danny, but that was something for Jamie to unpack another day. Now, he needed to figure out what was going on. The moment his eyes opened, everything came back. The call of shots fired, responding with Eddie, the man at the alley, getting shot, then nothing. As he blinked, Jamie could feel something crusted along his brow and beside his eye. It was dried blood. What was going on?

Jamie looked around, and what he saw definitely didn't make him feel any better, although it did provide some clarity. He'd been a cop long enough to be familiar with a kidnapper's basement, and that was definitely where he was. It was a small, dimly lit room with concrete walls and floor. The duct tape attaching his wrists and ankles to the chair he was in was also par for the course. The curious thing was the camera in front of him, with a little blinking light on it. Jamie was being filmed. Usually, that would imply a ransom video, but those were usually filmed then ended, and that was that. The camera was on, but Jamie was alone, implying that whoever turned the camera on did so while he was unconscious. That would be very unusual for a ransom video, so unless the guy who kidnapped him was just a weirdo, that wasn't what this was. So what was it? Jamie knew enough about sex trafficking to know that filming an unconscious subject wasn't quite how merchandise was advertised, so that, thankfully, couldn't be it either. No matter what was going on, Jamie wasn't about to start shouting for someone to come down there. He was alone for now, and he would take as much advantage of that as he could.

His bonds held tight. The duct tape wasn't about to just break, no matter how hard he tugged and pulled. With a sigh, Jamie stopped struggling against them. It wasn't helping, and only served to make his side hurt more. He had been shot, after all. It wasn't bad, just a deep graze right underneath his vest.

With a start, Jamie looked down at himself. He wasn't wearing his vest anymore. He wasn't even wearing his uniform anymore, just his thin tee shirt. At least it didn't feel like the wound was still bleeding at all. His head wound didn't seem to be bleeding anymore either, but the pain was still pretty intense. But despite his situation, all Jamie could think of was Eddie. She had to be okay. All of the times that Jamie almost told her how he felt, but didn't, came rushing back to him. Why couldn't he just admit that he loved her? He could barely admit it to himself, but she deserved to know. She was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Now, he may never get that chance, and he would regret not telling her for the rest of his life, which might not be very long. If he got out of this, and by some miracle Eddie was okay, he was going to tell her. He had to. But she just had to be okay. From what Jamie could remember, she'd been hit in the leg. Assuming it didn't hit her femoral artery, and a bus got there fast enough, she should be alright. Cops had come back from worse.

A loud creak from somewhere above him took Jamie out of his thoughts. A door creaked shut, and footsteps started coming his way, down a flight of wooden stairs. Jamie took a deep breath. No matter what was going on, he needed to stay calm.

Slowly, a man came into view, standing behind the camera. It was the man that Jamie and Eddie met at the front of the alley. The man was older than his dad, but not quite as old as his grandpa, with thinning dark hair and scruff. He was dressed plainly, and definitely didn't look like killer or kidnapper. He didn't fit the stereotypical profile, and there wasn't anything about him that made Jamie's skin crawl. He was just a completely normal looking man. A nobody. Yet here he was, with Jamie tied up in his basement.

"What do you want?" Jamie asked, his voice low as he glared at him.

"Jameson Reagan, youngest son of Francis Reagan," the man said in a monotone voice, completely ignoring Jamie's question. "I hope you enjoy your stay here. It will be permanent." The man paused and pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small knife. The man started twiddling with it, mindlessly, as he continued to speak. "I want you to know, none of this is your fault. You are simply a means to an end, but the end must be accomplished." He walked out from behind the camera, which still blinked, filming, and came to stand behind him. Jamie resisted the urge to contort his neck to see what the man was doing. He couldn't give the man that satisfaction, that visible assurance that Jamie was nervous. "This is all on your father, and the whole world is going to know it." His tone began to take on a darker edge, something low and dangerous. Jamie gasped softly in surprise and pain when the knife that the man was holding sliced across his shoulder. It was entirely superficial, but Jamie hadn't been expecting it at all.

"What are you talking about?" Jamie growled out. Was this man someone his father had put away long ago? Clearly he had some sort of vendetta against the man.

"Your father took my son from me," the man said, his voice once again calm. "That is a pain incomparable to anything. I am going to make him feel the same pain that I felt."

"I hate to break it to you, but he's already felt that pain too," Jamie replied without missing a beat. "My brother was killed years ago."

The knife came slashing across Jamie's back, eliciting another gasp. "You think I care!" the man shouted in his ear. He gripped Jamie's shoulder, his fingernails digging into it, and turned to face Jamie, his face, twisted in rage, mere inches away. "He forced me to deal with it, so he'll have to deal with it again!" he shouted. The man took a step back, then swung his fist, catching Jamie across the cheekbone. His grip on Jamie's shoulder was the only thing that kept him upright from the force of the punch. "Your father is going to have to watch as I slowly kill his precious baby boy, and there is nothing that you, or he, or the entire NYPD can do about it," he seethed, his voice once again low and dark.

Jamie just stared at him. Clearly the avenue of talking about his dad wasn't going to get him anywhere. But he wasn't done.

"What did you do to my partner?" he asked. Jamie tried to keep the fear from his voice. Eddie was amazing, she had to be fine.

"I left the girl there," the man replied with a shrug, as if he were bored. "She's not a part of this, she should recover." The man paused and pulled something out from his back pocket. It was a roll of duct tape. "Now enough with the questions." He quickly ripped a piece off, and managed to get it across Jamie's mouth, no matter how much he struggled against the man. He went back to standing behind Jamie, and grabbed his hair, exposing his neck. Jamie could feel the cool of the metal of the knife against his neck, in contrast to the warmth of his own blood that was already staining it. "Frank Reagan," the man began, like he was talking to an audience. "My name is Eric Nowak, and you killed my son. His name was Jake, and he was everything to me. You arrested him for shoplifting, and once he was in prison, they killed him. They killed my baby boy, but not before they hurt him and made him suffer. So I'm going to do the same thing to your precious Jamie. Your baby boy is going to suffer just like mine did. I will make him scream and plead for his life just like my Jake did, and only after he suffers like my Jake suffered, I will end his life. And you, Frank, you, are going to watch every second of it."

Before Jamie could even make sense of everything this man - Nowak, apparently - was saying, Nowak pulled the knife away from his neck, and jammed it into his shoulder. Jamie screamed into his gag and closed his eyes against the pain, and tried to focus on breathing. Nowak twisted the knife around a little, drawing another scream and a weak struggle. Jamie kept his eyes closed tight and tried to pull away.

"This is only the beginning, Frank. It's only the beginning." With that, he ripped the knife out of Jamie's shoulder and walked up to the camera. When Jamie opened his eyes again, the little light on the camera was off. It wasn't recording anymore. "Prepare yourself, kid," Nowak told him. "This is just a taste."

Nowak took something from the back of the camera, probably the SD card, and left. Jamie could hear him walking up the wooden stairs and heard the door close and lock. He closed his eyes again and once more focused on his breathing. He needed to stay calm. He may not be able to get out of this himself, so he needed to stay strong until Danny got him.

Wait, why Danny? Danny wouldn't be allowed to work his case. Why was Danny his first thought of who was going to get him out? Jamie let out another breath and shook his head. It didn't matter. He was going to be found, so it didn't matter. Nowak had given his name and his connection to the commissioner, so there was no way that Jamie wasn't going to be found.

Now that he thought about it, Jamie didn't know whether to be scared, impressed, or relieved. Nowak had told the camera so much valuable information, which normally would make a criminal stupid, so the man either was incredibly dumb, or he was so sure of himself and that he wouldn't be caught that he thought he could say anything. Jamie hoped it was the first option, but deep down, he knew it was probably the second. The second option meant that Jamie was in for a lot of pain, so he needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't move his wrists or his ankles, and the chair was metal, so purposely falling wouldn't break it. He was well and truly trapped, and there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.

Jamie turned his head in confusion as he thought about what Nowak had said. The man had said that Frank had arrested his son. If that were true, then his son had been arrested quite a long time ago, before Jamie was even born most likely. Nowak had implied that his son's death was shortly after his incarceration, so why was he exacting his revenge now, so long after? There were two likely reasons. Either he'd had a mental breakdown and suddenly snapped, or he'd been in prison himself until recently. If Jamie could figure it out, maybe he could use that to his advantage.

He kept his mind off the pain he was in by trying to formulate a way to get on the man's good side, but that would only work if he got the duct tape off his mouth. Jamie couldn't make a connection with him if he couldn't speak. So, convincing the man somehow to take the gag off would be the first course of action. He could do this. He had too. He couldn't just leave it up to everyone else to save him. There had to be a way for him to save himself, and when he did, he was going to tell Eddie the truth. She deserved to know. She was probably going to kill him for letting himself get kidnapped in the first place.

Thoughts of Eddie made him smile through the gag. She was truly something amazing. If for nothing else, he had to escape for her. He had to.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This chapter might feel like a filler, but it is an important filler. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

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Danny was just getting back from the alley Jamie was taken from with Baez - there weren't any witnesses, another dead end - when it happened. The TV in the squad room was playing the news, something about something in some country that Danny couldn't bring himself to care about, until suddenly, it wasn't. The screen flickered, and was covered in static. Danny wouldn't have cared at all if it weren't for what came on the screen right after. He saw him out of the corner of his eye. It was Jamie. Danny quickly turned to give the TV his full attention, his heart pounding as the rest of the world faded away, and all Danny could see was his baby brother.

Except Jamie wasn't the only one in frame. There was a man standing behind the kid, holding a knife to his neck. Danny only had a brief moment to take in the coagulated blood on his little brother's face and side and the duct tape across his mouth, and holding him to the chair. The blood stood out in stark contrast with Jamie's white tee shirt. At least the blood wasn't spreading.

"Frank Reagan," the man began, and Danny's blood ran cold. This was personal. "My name is Eric Nowak, and you killed my son. His name was Jake, and he was everything to me. You arrested him for shoplifting, and once he was in prison, they killed him. They killed my baby boy, but not before they hurt him and made him suffer. So I'm going to do the same thing to your precious Jamie. Your baby boy is going to suffer just like mine did. I will make him scream and plead for his life just like my Jake did, and only after he suffers like my Jake suffered, I will end his life. And you, Frank, you, are going to watch every second of it."

Danny couldn't breathe. He didn't even notice Baez coming to stand next to him, or all the other cops staring at him. All he could see was his baby brother, alone, and scared. Nowak shoved the knife into Jamie's shoulder, but Jamie wasn't the only one screaming.

"You sick bastard!" Danny shouted at the screen, ignoring everyone and everything around him. People were probably trying to trace the signal, phones were ringing off the hook, and people were saying his name, but the only thing Danny could hear was Jamie screaming into the duct tape, weakly trying to pull away as the man twisted the knife around.

"This is only the beginning, Frank. It's only the beginning." Nowak finally pulled the knife out of his little brother's shoulder, then walked up to the camera, obscuring the view. It stayed dark, but the words "prepare for more" flashed several times across the screen. After they disappeared, the news came back on, and the news reporter looked absolutely horrified.

"We're getting reports of this video taking over the all of the airwaves across all of New York City..."

Danny fell back into his seat, almost in shock. The entire city had just seen his kid brother getting stabbed? What did this psycho want? There had to be a way to get him to let Jamie go.

"Danny," Baez calmly said, a gentle hand on his shoulder. He finally sat up straight and blinked a few times to clear himself.

"Yeah, Eric Nowak, let's find out all we can about him," he said on autopilot, but clearly it wasn't fooling Baez. Still, he ignored her concerned glances. "I assume they weren't able to trace it? Because if they had, they'd've already told us where to go," Danny said, a thin lipped smile on his face. He could pretend to be fine.

"Danny-"

"Let's just focus on finding this guy, and getting Jamie back," Danny interrupted, his focus entirely on the case file he was pulling up. Jamie didn't have time for them to sit there and talk about his feelings. Besides, it was only a matter of time before his sergeant pulled him off the case. He needed to get as much done as he could while he still had the resources to do it.

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Baker was the only one with him when the airwaves were taken over and that terrible message went out. She clearly had no idea to what to say, but then again, neither did Frank.

"I-I'm so sorry this is happening," she stuttered, opening and closing her mouth again and again, as if she had more to say, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. "But your son is strong, he'll be okay."

Frank sighed. "There's no need for empty words, Baker. It's not up to Jamie what happens to him now. If that man wants to kill him, then that's what's going to happen. Duct tape doesn't just break, and madmen don't listen to reason. If Jamie is going to get out of this, then it will be because this department gets him out of it, so instead of standing there trying to make me feel better, get out there and clear my schedule. That man said that this is about me, so I need to be available at all times to the investigators." Frank turned and walked to the window overlooking the city, giving Baker a clear sign to leave.

Technically, everything he said was right, but none of that provided him any solace. He essentially told Baker to leave him alone, but inside, Frank's heart was breaking. This man had his baby boy and he was hurting him, and there was nothing Frank could do about it. He couldn't swoop in and save him like the superhero Jamie had always painted him as as a child, and as commissioner, he couldn't do anything other than talk to the detectives to further the investigation. Frank looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. Alone or not, he had to keep it together. If he fell apart because of his fear now, then he would never get it back together. Besides, Baker was right. Jamie was strong, and determined, and just as stubborn as his mother. If anyone could survive this, it was Jamie.

The skyline seemed especially expansive. Usually, Frank found the vastness of New York City to be a comfort. Maybe it was because of his Catholic roots, but being such a small part of a bigger picture that was ultimately controlled by God usually gave him a sense of peace. Not now. Now, knowing his insignificance only made him feel worse. What could he do to help his son? He'd already lost one son, how could it possibly be in God's plan for him to lose another? It couldn't be, it just couldn't. Jamie was going to be fine, he had to be. Frank nodded and turned away from the skyline. Everything was going to be fine. They were going to find his boy, and they were going to send the madman that took him to prison for the rest of his miserable life. Everything was going to be fine.

* * *

Eddie literally couldn't think of a worse thing happening. She had been shot, which wasn't a big deal, but it was because of that bullet that she now couldn't do anything to help her partner - who also happened to be the man she was in love with. Eddie didn't mind being alone in that hospital room - all of the Reagans had eventually had to leave in order to get back to their jobs and to do whatever they could to look for Jamie - especially now. When Jamie showed up on the TV screen, bloody, with a maniac standing over him with a knife, Eddie's heart had stopped. It was a miracle that nurses hadn't come running into the room to make sure that she was okay, with how she felt her heart beating. And now that the broadcast was over, Eddie was barely keeping it together. She had a hand clasped over her mouth in shock, and felt the tears beginning to form. She could feel them prickling behind her eyes, could feel the moisture gather, and, try as she might, they spilled over and down her face. Eddie was glad that she was alone. Maybe it was just because of the pain meds that she was on, but still. Crying was not something that she did often.

She had to do something. She had to help. Just sitting there in a hospital bed wasn't going to do anything to get Jamie back, so that's not what she was going to do. She had crutches, she would be fine. Slowly, Eddie, maneuvered herself to let her legs dangle over the edge of the bed. The pain meds were helping, but she could still feel that dull throb in her thigh, and the more she moved, the more it hurt. Eddie sighed and hung her head. How could she sit there and think about her own pain while Jamie had just been viciously stabbed, the knife twisted around in his shoulder and violently ripped out. The sound of his muffled scream echoed once more in her ears, the look of pain and terror on his handsome face burned into her brain.

Eddie quickly steeled herself then immediately stood and grabbed the crutches. Jamie was out there, hurt and scared and alone, and Eddie would be damned if she just sat there and did nothing. She quickly detached herself from everything but the IV, then started on her way down to the nurses station, pushing the IV pole with one of her crutches. She was barely out the door of her room before two nurses came jogging her way, scolding her for detaching the monitors and getting out of bed.

"I have to leave," Eddie said, trying to stay calm against the nurses' insistence that she get back in bed. "Where's Linda Reagan, she'll understand, I have to talk to her."

"Officer Janko, you are far from being ready to be released," one of the nurses said, holding up one hand placatingly.

"It's my decision, I'll sign all the papers, you can't keep me here-"

"Eddie, where do you think you're going?"

She turned her head over her shoulder. There was Linda, walking quickly down the hall towards her with a slight frown on her face.

"I can't stay here. I know you saw the broadcast too, I have to go, I have to help!" Eddie pleaded.

Linda sighed, but waved away the other nurses. "Let's go get you back in bed, then we'll talk, and I promise I'll listen. Is that fair enough?"

After a moment, Eddie nodded, then turned to make her way back to the bed. Linda held on to her IV pole, speeding up the journey. The nurse reattached the monitors, and checked the readings before taking a seat on the chair closest to the bed.

"Yes, I did see the broadcast-"

"Then you know I have to help," Eddie interrupted. "He's out there and that guy is hurting him and I just- I can't just stay here and do nothing while he's- while he's being-" Eddie broke off and looked away, wiping away her tears and hoping that Linda didn't see them, despite the fact that they were obvious.

"I know," Linda gently replied, setting a warm hand on Eddie's wrist. "Jamie and Joe were the only little brothers I've ever had, and now that Joe's gone, I can't even begin to imagine losing Jamie too. But when you're this hurt, there's not much that you can do. And you're his partner, so you wouldn't be allowed to work the case because of your personal involvement. You know that."

Eddie looked down at her hands. Linda was right, but that didn't mean that Eddie had to like it. She hated everything about it.

"But there has to be something I can do," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Just sitting here, waiting to heal, knowing what that son of a bitch is doing to Jamie? I can't do that. I just can't. I can't even say that the information I told the detectives was useful, because that video shows the guy's face and he even said his name. So I haven't done anything to help."

"You survived. That helps," Linda said, giving Eddie's hand a slight squeeze. "Can you imagine what Jamie would do if he got out of this only to find out that you didn't make it because you left the hospital early and let that wound get infected? You survived getting shot, so now you have to keep surviving. That's what you can do for Jamie. And I'm gonna do everything I can to keep you here, to keep you alive, and that's what I can do for Jamie. And once your chance of infection is low enough, and the only thing keeping you here is pain, I will sign you out myself. I promise." The sincerity in Linda's eyes was enough to make Eddie look away once more, but this time, she nodded.

"Okay, alright, I'll stay," she muttered. Eddie hated that she would stay, but Linda was right. She would be no help to Jamie at all if she let her wound get infected. So if staying there was the best way to help him, then that was exactly what she was going to do.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I do apologize for the long breaks between chapters. I have no self control and started this fic while writing another one, so I have to split my time equally between them. Also, I'm not gonna spoil anything, but WARNING, this is a piece of fiction, and as such I am taking some creative liberties with certain mental conditions. I don't mean to offend anyone, and obviously, if the way I portray a certain thing bothers you, then you don't have to read it. You do you. I just thought I should probably mention that beforehand. Just remember, it's fiction. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

Though he got teased for it relentlessly, Jamie really was the golden boy of the Reagan family. There were times when that wasn't such a good thing, but every now and then, it really was. Jamie had always gotten stellar grades in school, from elementary all the way through law school. Getting a 4.0 was expected for him, and it was a challenge that wasn't actually all that challenging. His high grades in school made many people question why he turned in his briefcase at the firm for a gun and a shield, but all of that knowledge and intelligence aided him time and time again, and this time would be no different. Nowak was doing this because of his son. Jamie had to make a connection with the man on a deeper level, appeal to his son, and maybe Nowak would let him go. Just appealing to his sense as a father clearly wouldn't work, because that was the whole reason why he was doing this. He knew full well that he was depriving another father of his son. That was his whole point. But still, there had to be a way to reach him, to show him that he couldn't do this. In order to do that, he had to find out more about the man's son.

As much as Jamie never wanted to see Nowak again, because seeing him again likely meant that he was going to be stabbed or shot or had his head bashed in or something, he needed to. So several hours later, when the door opened and Nowak slowly made his way back to him and ripped the gag off before turning back to the camera, Jamie held back his flinch of fear and spoke to the man before he could turn the camera on again.

"What was he like?" he asked, trying to keep his hatred for the man that had shot and stabbed him off his face. Nowak looked up at him, just a hint of confusion on his face. "Your son, Jake. That was his name, right? Jake?"

Nowak's face twisted in despair, then to anger. "Don't you say his name," he seethed. "No son of the man responsible for his death gets to say Jake's name."

"He must have been a really great son," Jamie continued, as if Nowak hadn't said anything. He would refrain from saying his name for the time being though.

"He was," Nowak muttered, his face softening as he looked down at his feet. "He made a stupid mistake, got involved with the wrong people, shoplifted. They called it grand larceny, sentenced him to a year in jail." Nowak sighed and shook his head, then looked up at Jamie, true grief in his eyes. "He looked just like his mother, so you can imagine what happened to him in prison. The next thing I knew, they were telling me that my baby boy was dead. I didn't even get to bury him, they wouldn't let me out for that. I didn't get to say goodbye, I didn't get to bury him, I didn't get to face the monster that ended his life, and I didn't get to tell your father that it was his fault." Nowak's eyes narrowed as he stared down at Jamie. "It was so long ago, but I thought about how I would get justice for Jake every single day. And finally, here I am, and here you are, and Jake is finally going to get the justice that he deserves. If your father had just helped Jake instead of arresting him, none of this would've happened. So when I make you scream, just remember, it's your father's fault." Nowak flicked on the camera and stepped back towards Jamie, a glare of hatred on his face. He wasn't holding anything like a knife or a gun, so it was probably just a beating. That was okay. Jamie could take a beating. He certainly had before, and he could do it again.

What Jamie was not prepared for was Nowak jamming his fingers into the stab wound in Jamie's shoulder. He let out a choked off cry of pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He was being filmed, he couldn't let his family see how much it hurt. He had to be strong for them. Jamie breathed quickly through his nose and kept his head down. If a tear of pain slipped out past his closed lids, the camera didn't catch it. Nowak moved his fingers around, eliciting groans and cries of pain that didn't escape his mouth, but definitely could still be heard. He gasped when Nowak pulled his fingers away, and opened his eyes wide. He could do this, it would be fine, everything would be fine. Danny was gonna find him, his dad was going to take care of things, it was going to be okay.

The beating that Jamie had been expecting came after that, and honestly, it wasn't that bad. He would take a beating over being stabbed any day. Yeah, it did really suck when he felt one of his ribs crack, and the feeling of blood running down his face was very unpleasant, but he would be okay. He'd had worse. Cracked and broken ribs sucked, but Jamie didn't think there was any internal bleeding, at least not yet.

Nowak didn't say anything, didn't even look at the camera. He just kept leveling punches and kicks on Jamie, and shouting unintelligibly. That was what scared Jamie the most, how unhinged the man was. Obviously, anyone who kidnaps someone in order to get revenge is at least a little messed up, but there was definitely more than that. Nowak wasn't insane, but something was going on that Jamie didn't know. But if he was going to get out alive, he was going to have to figure it out.

* * *

It was only a few hours later when that maniac took over the airwaves once again to show the entire city how he was torturing Danny's little brother. It was only a few hours later when Danny had to excuse himself to the locker room where he punched the mirror and screamed in frustration. It was only a few hours later when he sat with his head down while Baez wrapped his bleeding hand, both of them silent. How had it only been a few hours? It had only been a day since he was laughing with Jamie at family dinner, and now he was who knows where being hurt for something he had nothing to do with.

His sergeant had ordered him to go home, but Danny couldn't do that. He couldn't not do everything in his power to get his little brother back. But there was only so much he could do in the squadroom, with his sergeant yelling at him to go home every five minutes. That's how he and Baez came to be sitting in a cafe down the street from his precinct, laptops open and research frantically being done.

"I can't find records of an Eric Nowak with a son Jake Nowak anywhere in our system, or anywhere at all," Baez said, frustrated.

Danny wasn't surprised. He hadn't found anything on the man either.

"My dad only ever arrested one Jake Nowak, but all the records show that his father's name was John, not Eric," Danny replied, shaking his head. It didn't make sense. Everything else lined up. Jake Nowak was arrested for grand larceny and sentenced to a year in prison, but he was killed after only a few months. It had all happened while Frank was a rookie cop, so why had this man waited so long to get his revenge? Usually that implied a prison sentence, but there weren't any records of that.

"Wait, I think I found something," Baez said. She sounded optimistic. "John Nowak was committed to a mental institution before his son was even arrested, but a week ago, he escaped."

"We need to go speak to his doctors, stat," Danny said, already closing his laptop and standing up. Since they weren't technically on the case, they wouldn't be able to get a warrant, but that wasn't going to stop him. Nothing was getting in the way of him getting to Jamie. Baez followed him quickly out of the cafe and to their car, but she stopped him before he could get in.

"Danny, wait," she said, holding up a hand. Danny stopped, but turned to look at her with a glare. "I think it's probably best if I drive. You know it's not safe to drive when you're emotionally compromised, and I wanna get to the institution alive. You're a bad enough driver as it is, anyway." She pushed past him and didn't give him time to argue. Danny stood there for a moment, then sighed and shook his head, but went back around to the passenger's seat. Sometimes, it was just best not to argue with her, even when she was wrong. Because she was definitely wrong. Danny was pissed beyond belief, and maybe even a little scared for Jamie too, but he was not emotionally compromised. Definitely not.

The car ride to the institution was blissfully silent. Danny wasn't in the mood to talk, and thankfully, Baez knew that. She didn't even turn the radio on. The only problem with the silence was that it left Danny alone with his thoughts. All he could see was Jamie, being stabbed and beaten by that maniac, struggling weakly to get away. Jamie was strong, but the kid had to be terrified, and there was nothing Danny could do.

When Jamie was a little kid, he had been afraid of thunderstorms, like many kids were. Danny, being ten years older than his little brother, had the job of protecting him while he was scared. Joe had always taken that responsibility much more seriously than Danny had. Joe was usually the one who tried to distract Jamie from his fear. Joe was always there for Jamie, no matter what, while Danny was the jerk who told him that Santa wasn't real when the kid was only five. Danny tried not to think about the pain of losing Joe, tried not to think about holding Jamie when they got the news, both of them crying much more than Danny considered manly. The only good thing to come of Joe's death was that it brought Danny and Jamie closer together. Now, Danny had to be there for the only little brother he had left. He'd failed Joe. He could not fail Jamie too. He would not.

Danny got out of the car the moment Baez put it in park. He didn't wait for her to march through the hospital's doors and right up to the secretary.

"I'm Detective Danny Reagan, this is my partner Detective Maria Baez," he quickly said, motioning towards where Baez was - at least, where he assumed she was, since he hadn't looked back after leaving the car. "I need all of your records on a patient, John Nowak, immediately."

"Reagan? Sir, I'm sorry but I can't hand those over without a warrant," the woman said, looking up at him in surprise. She glanced over at the TV, which was running HGTV, but Danny knew what she was thinking. She had seen Nowak's videos too, and the name Reagan stuck out to her.

"Obviously you know who I am, so you know what I'm doing here. If you wanna help me save my little brother, then you're gonna get those records for me," Danny said with a thin lipped smile. The secretary looked between him and Baez, who was just standing there with her arms crossed, the same expression on her face as Danny.

The woman lowered her voice and leaned a bit closer to them, saying, "I could lose my job."

"And my baby brother could lose his life," Danny seethed without missing a beat. "So please, just give us the records. Please." Danny hated begging more than almost anything in the world, but this was for Jamie. He would beg and grovel and plead and fall on his knees if it meant that he kept Jamie safe. "Please," he repeated, almost in a whisper.

The secretary took a few glances around, then motioned with her head for the detectives to come around the counter and take a look at the computer. Danny and Baez quickly made their way around, and stood over the woman's shoulder as she brought up the records.

"John Nowak was admitted for dissociative identity disorder in the '70s, and he's been here ever since, until last week, when he escaped. He spent a few years here as a child after the murders of his parents, but was released when he was deemed fit to live a normal life. Nowak returned after he murdered his wife, his condition significantly worse. John was always soft tempered, compassionate, and caring, but his other personality, Eric, is violent, cruel, and vengeful. We did everything we could to help him, but slowly, day by day, John slipped away, and Eric took his place." The secretary sighed and shook her head, but all the pieces were fitting into place for Danny. Everything was adding up.

"Did he have any common visitors?" Baez asked. The secretary shook her head.

"We're gonna need to see his personal belongings," Danny demanded.

"I'm so gonna lose my job over this," the woman muttered, but she stood up and motioned for Danny and Baez to follow her anyway.

Less than ten minutes later, Danny and Baez were back in the car, headed for his dad's house. Danny couldn't bring this stuff home to Linda and the kids, but Henry would understand. Frank would be gone most of the day, so hopefully they would have answers by the time he got back, but Henry never liked the rules anyway, so he would be very okay with Danny breaking them for Jamie.

To Danny's surprise, the house wasn't nearly as empty as he thought it would be.

"Took you long enough to get here," Erin said, setting down her coffee cup. "What have you got on him?" She stood up and made her way towards Danny, eyeing the box he was carrying.

"What are you doing here?" Danny asked, avoiding the question for the moment. His eyes widened even more when Abetemarco walked in through the kitchen.

"Do you honestly think I could just sit around at the DA's office pretending to work on cases while some maniac out there has my little brother?" Erin asked in reply, almost as if she were insulted that he would even ask in the first place.

"And where she goes, I go, especially when it's somethin' like this," Abetemarco added, coming to stand right behind Erin.

"The more the merrier," Baez broke in with a smile. "Let's get to work." She patted Danny on the back and brushed past him towards the kitchen.

"I've got coffee for everyone!" Henry called out. Had the circumstances been different, Danny would've found all of this to be amusing, but all he could manage this time was a small sigh. He didn't like to admit it, but two heads were better than one, so five heads were probably better than two. Besides, everyone in that house cared about Jamie. It was only fair that they all got to help get him home, even if Danny hated - well, pretended to hate - working with Abetemarco. To find Jamie, anything was worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I have an important announcement! This fic is going to be on hold from now until December! For the first time ever, I am undertaking NaNoWriMo, so I have to put all of my creative energy and writing into my original novel. I'll let you guys know how it goes when I return in December. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

It had been twenty-four hours that Eddie was locked up in the hospital, unable to do anything to help her partner. In those twenty-four hours, there had been two videos broadcasted of Jamie, and both of them made Eddie want to both scream in frustration and anger and cry in despair and fear. But she couldn't do either. She had to keep it together, to prove to Linda that she was stable on all fronts - stable enough to be released from the hospital and finally able to do something to help Jamie. Danny was doing something, he had to be. He'd promised her that he would get Jamie back, that he would bring Jamie home. Protocol be damned, Eddie trusted that Danny would do everything in his power to keep his promise. But that didn't mean that Eddie was content with letting Danny do all the work. Jamie was her partner, her best friend. There was no way that Eddie wasn't going to do everything she could to help him too. The entire Reagan family was probably banding together, piling all their resources together, to do everything they could to help Jamie. They would never just sit idly by and let protocol tell them that they couldn't help their own kin. Eddie wasn't about to let the same be said for her, because to her, Jamie was family, blood relation be damned.

Eddie pressed the nurse call button. She needed to get out of there. Linda had to understand, she just had to.

Less than a minute later, Linda was walking through the doors, a gentle smile on her face.

"Please tell me I can leave now," Eddie begged. She was itching to get back out there, crutches or not.

"Well," Linda started, looking down at the chart in her hands. "You're responding well to everything we're giving you, and there haven't been any complications. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine, I just want to get out of here," Eddie quickly responded, barely hiding a grimace as she swung her legs over the edge of the hospital bed.

"Hey, slow down," Linda gently scolded, holding out a hand to stop Eddie from standing up. "I know that's not exactly true, but I did promise you that you could leave when it was only pain keeping you here, but you can't exactly go back home to an empty apartment. You need to stay with someone while you recover."

"What I need to do is find Jamie," Eddie replied. She tried to use her best puppy eyes to convince Linda to let her leave. The puppy eyes always worked on Jamie - of course, Jamie had his own puppy eyes that he used on her, and they worked just as well, which made it quite the battle when they both brought out the puppy eyes against each other.

Linda sighed. "Everyone is at Frank's. Do you know where that is?" she asked. Eddie nodded. "Okay, I'll get a cab for you, but you have to go to Frank's, and you have to take it easy. I'll let Danny know you're on your way, and I'll be right back with your paperwork." Linda quickly took out Eddie's IV, and handed her a bag of spare clothes.

Eddie made quick work of shedding her hospital gown in favor of the tee shirt and sweatpants, wincing through the pain. She'd only been shot. She couldn't even imagine the pain that Jamie had to have been going through. She would be fine, and of course Jamie would be fine too, but at the moment, he certainly wasn't. Eddie didn't have any room to complain.

Only a few minutes later, Linda returned with a wheelchair and paperwork. Eddie barely paid any attention to what she was signing, only focusing on getting out of there as quickly as she could. As Linda rolled her down to the hospital doors and the waiting cab, she ran through the list of what she had to do for her recovery, the pain meds that she was prescribed, and the things she should and shouldn't do while her leg healed.

"Linda, I know," Eddie gently interrupted when Linda started her whole spiel over again. "I'll be okay."

"I know, it's just..." Linda trailed off for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing. "It's easier to worry about you, because you're right here, and I can do something to help you, but Jamie-" she abruptly broke off, shaking her head. Eddie felt her pain all too closely. "I know Danny's gonna bring him home, but that poor kid, what he's going through. The whole city has seen it. Nothing is going to be the same for him, at least for a while. I watched that kid grow up. When I met Danny, Jamie was still in elementary school. He was always such a good kid." Linda stopped, a bit choked up. Eddie didn't turn to look up at her, instead opting to give her a bit of privacy. "You stay safe, and rest, okay?" she said, helping Eddie to stand and handing her the crutches with a fake smile that did nothing to hide the tears in her eyes.

"I'm gonna find him," Eddie somberly replied. "We're gonna find him. Thank you for everything."

Linda nodded, then turned and went back to work. Eddie took a breath and carefully got into the cab. She gave the driver Frank's address, but stayed silent the rest of the drive. She wasn't exactly in the mood for idle conversation, especially since Jamie could be anywhere, meaning that she could be passing him and didn't even know it. New York City was quite large, so the probability that she actually was passing where he was being held was slim, but still, it was there, and it was all that she could think about.

Eddie had never been to the commissioner's house before, and it was just as beautiful as she would've guessed. She only knew where it was because Frank was Jamie's emergency contact, and thus his address was in Jamie's file, which Eddie had committed to memory, just as Jamie had hers. Eddie quickly paid the cabbie and got out of the car as quickly as her crutches would allow her too, grateful that it wasn't winter and there was no ice for her to slip on. She'd sprained her ankle a few times before, and she'd just never really gotten the hang of crutches.

It was Erin who answered the door when Eddie rang the bell, and she looked only a little surprised. "Danny told us you'd be coming," she said, then opened the door widely for Eddie to come inside. "We're all set up in the kitchen. Do you need anything?"

"I'm good. What've we got so far?" she asked in reply. Wasting time on pleasantries was not an option.

Erin led her through the beautiful house and into the kitchen. Any other time, Eddie would have ogled the house to her heart's content, but this time, she couldn't be bothered by the crown moldings and exquisite furniture. At the kitchen table sat Danny and Baez on one side, with Erin's investigator, Abetemarco, on the other side, next to an empty seat that Eddie assumed was Erin's. Henry stood at the counter, pouring another cup of coffee. Eddie sat at one of the few empty seats left, and rested her crutches against the table.

"How much have you seen?" Danny asked instead of answering her question.

"Everything," Eddie replied.

"Okay, well this Eric Nowak guy isn't actually Eric Nowak at all. His name is John Nowak, and last week, he escaped from a mental institution," Danny said, barely looking at her. "Eric is his other personality, who developed when he was a child as a defense mechanism, but has grown and evolved over the years to become vengeful and violent."

"He has DID?" Eddie asked, just to clarify. It was like something straight out of a movie.

"Split personality disorder," he answered with a nod.

"It's called dissociative identity disorder now, Danny, not split personality, that term is outdated," Erin corrected.

"Is now really the time for getting on my case about political correctness?"

"Guys," Baez interrupted before Erin could respond. "I know tempers are high and emotions are running, but now isn't the time for an argument either," she said, holding up her hands placatingly.

"She's right," Henry added. He set a mug of coffee down in front of Eddie before reclaiming his spot at the head of the table. "We have more important questions to answer, like, where is the bastard who kidnapped my youngest grandchild?"

"We're workin' on it, Pops," Danny replied, turning his attention back to his laptop.

Eddie took a sip of her coffee and glanced around the table. Everyone was doing something. There were laptops open and files being looked through, but Eddie had no idea how she was supposed to help. Even Henry was ready to do anything that was needed, even if that was just to get someone a coffee refill or a bag of pretzels to munch on. What could she do?

"Guys, I wanna help," she said. Eddie hated how weak her own voice sounded, a pleading quality in it that she absolutely despised. "There has to be something I can do to help."

Abetemarco looked at her, and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then closed it, and looked at Erin instead. She sighed, then nodded.

"Well, I was gonna take Erin with me to go talk to Nowak's brother down in Jersey, but if you put on some more professional lookin' clothes, you can come with me instead," he suggested.

"Yes, absolutely!" Eddie said, using her crutches to stand up. "We can just stop by my apartment so I can change."

"Sounds good, kid," Abetemarco replied. "Your job will be to tell Danny everything, because he hates it when I do his work for him," he said with a smile. Danny just shook his head.

"Baez and I are gonna go back to the nut house to talk to the other patients and Nowak's doctors," Danny said, but Erin looked like she was about to have an aneurism.

"It's a mental health institution, not a nut house," she said. It even looked like her eye was twitching. Danny held up his hands in mock surrender, but didn't apologize. Eddie just smiled. She knew the Reagans well enough to know that despite how much they loved each other, they could argue like cats and dogs. But this just seemed like an attempt at normalcy, if Henry's soft smile and lack of replies had anything to do with it. "Just please, keep me updated," Erin said, switching topics. "I'll be here with Grandpa."

Danny gave her a thumbs up as he grabbed his jacket and packed away his laptop, then followed Baez out of the room and out of the house.

"Come on, kid, let's get going," Abetemarco said, motioning with his head towards the door.

Eddie smiled at Erin and Henry, then followed Abetemarco out to his car. One car ride and stop at her apartment later, and they were on the road to Newark, New Jersey. Eddie felt much better in professional clothes, her shield and gun on her hip. Really, she felt like a detective, and the thought was actually the first good thought she'd had all day. Although she hated the idea of not being Jamie's partner, she did love the idea of being a detective, exchanging her silver shield for a gold one. She sighed. Maybe one day.

"We're gonna find him," Abetemarco said, breaking the silence. "I know you're worried about him, but Jamie's gonna be just fine."

"No, that wasn't- yeah, I know," Eddie stuttered. Abetemarco had misinterpreted her sigh as being about her distress over Jamie, and not because of her goals of becoming a detective, but it was easier to just go along with it instead of trying to explain. Besides, he was right, anyway. "He has to be fine."

"I know I'm not exactly a mind reader, but I am pretty perceptive when it comes to young love." Eddie snapped her head over to stare at him. "And I can tell that you care about Jamie more than as a partner."

"Well, I-"

"Don't interrupt, that's rude," Abetemarco scolded, but there was no real heat in his words. "Don't bother tryin' to deny it, because I can tell. I may not know you very well, but I can tell, and you're in luck, because Jamie looks at you in exactly the same way. So, when all of this is over, you two better have a real conversation about what you mean to each other. What you guys got don't come around all that often, so take it from an old fart like me, and tell him the truth."

"I just don't want things to change," Eddie muttered, barely loud enough for Abetemarco to hear her.

It was Abetemarco's turn to sigh. "I know, but kid, if you don't tell him, you might lose the best thing that ever happened to you. Things will change, but they'll change for the better. You probably won't be partners at work anymore, but you'll be partners in everything else, in all the ways that matter, and you'll get all the great and fun stuff that comes with that," he said with a shrug. Eddie tried to ignore his possible innuendo. It was definitely not the time for that.

"How could you tell?" she asked.

"Because I've been where you are, and I made the mistake of not tellin' her how I felt," he replied, a sad smile on his face. "She thought I wasn't interested, so she moved on and found someone else. Don't make the same mistake that I did. Tell Jamie the truth. You guys are great kids, you'll be great together." He smiled and turned up the radio, singing along loudly to Foreigner's "I Want To Know What Love Is".

Eddie blushed and laughed, then turned to look out the window. Maybe Abetemarco was right. Maybe all of this was a sign that life could be short, and she should tell Jamie how she felt while she had the chance. There'd always been something brewing beneath the surface of their partnership, and they had to both know it. Why else had they kissed that one night a few years earlier? What if they'd decided then to pursue whatever it was between them? They would never know, but maybe they still had a chance. Eddie had heard time and time again, "life is too short not to tell someone you love them if you do", and just maybe, that cliche was right.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Heyyyyyyyy so I know it's been over a month longer than I said it would be, but I'm back! NaNoWriMo was incredible but it wiped me out and I needed a break, and then Christmas break was super busy, and now I'm back at school and trying to get back into a schedule. Regardless, I will try to update more regularly, but I can't guarantee anything. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

It wasn't that one got used to pain, but usually, a stabbing white hot pain would fade to a dull throb with time, especially when more and more wounds were added. The gunshot that Jamie had sustained was a pain he could barely feel against all of the fresh pains that had been added since then. In his situation, looking at the bright side was the only thing that would save him from hopelessness.

He'd been getting nowhere with Nowak. Any time he tried to make a connection with the man and find a way to get through to him, he only got an extra cut with a knife, or an extra hit with brass knuckles. Jamie had lost count of how many times the man had come down to torture him, and keeping track of his injuries was even harder. It was bad, and that's all he knew. Besides, it wasn't as if dwelling on it would make the pain any less - it would probably make it worse. But it wasn't as if there was much else for him to do while he waited for Nowak to come back. He got a small reprieve while he slept, but Jamie knew in the back of his mind that being unconscious after a beating or from pain wasn't the same thing as a good night's sleep, and he was only kidding himself by calling that 'sleeping'.

Jamie reflexively tensed when he heard the door creak open once more. Nowak was back. He took as deep a breath as he could with the duct tape still in place, and prepared himself. He could make it through this. He was a Reagan. He could make it through anything.

Except the man that came down the stairs wasn't Nowak. He had the same face, but everything else about him was different. Jamie's eyes narrowed in confusion. Previously, Nowak had been dressing in jeans and a tee shirt, but the man in front of him was wearing slacks and a dress shirt, looking like Walter White at the beginning of Breaking Bad, when he's a complete wimp. The man in front of him was also wringing his hands nervously, and looking all around with wild eyes. Nowak had been confident in his actions, and had never shown a single sign of nervousness.

"I'm so sorry about all this," the man said. "Really, I am. I know I won't be here for long before Eric comes back, but I just had to apologize. I can't control him anymore, he controls me." He shrugged, but it clicked in Jamie's mind. It was the same man, just a different personality. More of the pieces were coming together. "I'll get you some water, just a minute," Nowak said, hastily walking behind Jamie. He could hear the sound of a fridge opening, then closing. A moment later, Nowak was in front of him, gently peeling off the duct tape. He unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and held it up to Jamie's lips. Jamie took as much water as Nowak would let him, and relished in the feeling of the cold liquid running down his throat. In that moment, it was the best water he'd ever had. "Not too much, not when you've had so little recently," Nowak said.

"You gotta let me go," Jamie quickly replied. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere with Eric Nowak, but maybe he could with this one, whatever he called himself.

"I'm sorry, but even if I had the time, I couldn't," the man said with a regretful smile. "Eric won't let me stay out for long, and if he found out that I let you go, he'd kill me."

"No, he won't," Jamie protested, shaking his head. It probably wouldn't be an effective strategy to point out that Eric couldn't kill his alternate personality without killing himself as well, but it was still such an obvious flaw in the man's reasoning that the part of Jamie that missed being a lawyer couldn't help but point it out, at least a little bit. "He can't kill you, but if you don't do something, he is going to kill me and force my father to watch."

The man cringed and looked to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wish there was something I could do, I really do, but I just can't." He held the water bottle back up to Jamie's lips, and let him drink more. Jamie took the opportunity, since there was no way of knowing whether or not he would get the chance to have more. "I'm sorry, kid," the man repeated after taking the water away. He replaced the duct tape, and looked everywhere but at Jamie.

Jamie did all he could to force the man to look back at him, started yelling through the duct tape, but he just looked at the floor, and walked back up the stairs. The door closed with a bang and a lock, and Jamie sighed. What was he supposed to do?

* * *

Danny kept tapping incessantly on his thigh as he and Baez made their way back to the mental institution that Nowak escaped from. This time, they would talk to the man's doctors and the people he interacted with on a daily basis. At this point, there was a possibility that the detectives actually running the case had gone there and spoken to them, but Danny didn't care. He couldn't ask those detectives for information, because he knew they would never share it with him. Most detectives were a lot better at following protocol and procedures than he was.

"Can you speed up, please?" he asked Baez, who had insisted on driving once more.

"Danny, I'm already going ten over," she replied, ever the vigilant driver. "We will get there soon, and we will get there in one piece."

Danny rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his fingers as he looked out the window. The tapping of his fingers had become the bouncing of his leg. If Baez noticed, she didn't say anything.

It had been too long since a video had been released, much longer than any of the other intervals. Danny hoped that was a good thing, but it scared him all the same. What if that meant that Nowak had killed Jamie already? What was he supposed to do if he lost Jamie too? Losing Joe had wreaked hell on their family. He couldn't even imagine what would happen if the same happen to Jamie. The kid didn't deserve that. He was so good and kind and pure, so much better at keeping the peace than anyone else in their family. Jamie had always been the most like their mother in that regard. When they got Jamie out of this - because it had to be when, not if - Danny was going to man up and tell his little brother how important he was to him, to their whole family. Surely he could do that. Surely Jamie deserved that. He sighed again.

"We're gonna find him," Baez said for the hundredth time that day. "He's a strong kid. He's gonna be okay."

"You're damn right he is," Danny muttered, still staring out the window. He willed them to move just a little bit faster, because maybe a few seconds could make all the difference. Sometimes, a few seconds was the difference between life and death. Danny would make every second count.

It was about ten minutes later that they pulled into the parking lot of the institution for the second time that day. This time, Baez was right beside him as he opened the doors and walked back through. The same secretary was sitting at the front desk.

"Detective Reagan," she greeted with a forced smile. "Is there something else I can do for you?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're gonna need to speak with Nowak's primary doctors and anyone he regularly came into contact with," Danny replied, forgoing pleasantries. The secretary should've remembered enough from a few hours earlier to know that Danny had much more important things on his mind that being polite to potential witnesses.

"That I can help you with easily," she said, her smile turning real. Apparently she wasn't concerned about losing her job for this the way she had been earlier. She picked up the phone on the desk and dialed the proper extension. "Dr. Carlyle, I have two detectives here to speak with you." The woman glanced up at them. "Okay," she said, then hung up. "Dr. Carlyle's office is room 303. She'll be there to speak with you." Danny started walking away the moment she said the room number.

"Thank you," Baez said for him, keeping up courtesy. Danny could tell that she was getting annoyed with him, but he appreciated that she wasn't saying anything. If their situations had been reversed, Danny knew she would be acting the same way, and she probably realized that too.

After a quick flight of stairs and a few twists and turns, the two detectives were right outside room 303. Danny knocked on the open door and took a slow step inside, Baez right behind him.

The woman at the desk looked up and flashed a brief smile. "You must be the detectives," she assumed, standing and straightening her white coat. She held out her hand for them to shake. "I'm Dr. Carlyle. I specialize in working with patients with dissociative identity disorder."

Danny and Baez both shook her hand. "I'm Detective Reagan, and this is Detective Baez," he greeted. Danny chose to ignore the brief look of recognition that flashed across the doctor's face at his name. Evidently she had seen the news as well. He took one of the two seats across from the woman's desk, and Baez took the other. "We're gonna need you to tell us everything you can about one of your patients, John Nowak."

She sighed. "I figured as much," Carlyle said. "After seeing the news, I knew it was only a matter of time before you guys showed up. Reagan, is there any relation-"

"Yes, it's my little brother," Danny interrupted. "Now please, we're working against the clock here, so just tell us everything you can about Nowak."

"Why did he come to stay here?" Baez asked. "People are generally only institutionalized when they are a danger to themselves or others, right?"

"That is correct," Carlyle replied with a nod. "But it wasn't always that way. When Nowak was first admitted back in the early 1950s, psychiatrists barely knew what DID was, and even then it was called multiple personality disorder. Nowak saw his parents brutally murdered as a very young child. His other personality, Eric, developed as a way to help John cope with that. He stayed here for a few years, but eventually, we saw no signs of Eric at all, just John, so he was released. It wasn't until the 1970s, when he murdered his wife, that we found that Eric had returned. He was immediately sent back here, and was frequently visited by his son until the boy's arrest."

"Did he have any other visitors?" Baez asked. "Especially more recently?"

Carlyle shook her head with a frown. "No, I'm sorry."

"What about other patients that he may have been friends with?" Danny added. "Anyone he may have confided in?"

"He did have one friend here, Gary Weathers," she replied with a nod. "He's a paranoid schizophrenic who was institutionalized after multiple suicide attempts. He and Nowak had a tumultuous relationship to say the least, but nevertheless they talked frequently."

"What do you mean, tumultuous?" Baez asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Well, Eric would often encourage Weathers to harm himself. He played into the man's delusions and told him that harming himself would be the only way to be safe from the things he saw and heard. We tried to put a stop to it whenever possible, but there was only so much we could do. And John, he was very caring towards Weathers on the few occasions that we saw him. Weathers was friendly towards both, and considered both friends," she replied.

"We'll need to speak with him," Danny said.

"Of course," Carlyle quickly replied. "Is there anything else I can help you with? Any other questions?"

"We just need to know if you ever saw or heard anything Nowak, in terms of what he's doing. If he ever talked about doing this, if anyone else mentioned it..." Danny trailed off. "If you know anything at all that might help us find Jamie, you need to tell us."

Carlyle sighed. "I'm sorry, but I don't know anything. Eric talked all the time about getting revenge, but that wasn't seen as a big concern while he was here, since he couldn't actually do anything, and he never talked about specifics, at least not to me."

"Well maybe it should've been a bigger concern," Danny shot back.

"Danny," Baez interrupted, resting a hand on his arm. She shook her head at him, and he took a deep breath.

"Weathers, we need to talk to him," he continued.

"Of course," Carlyle said with a smile. "I'll bring him to you, if you'll just follow me." She stood and walked out the door, with the detectives on her heels. After a few twists and turns, she instructed them to wait in one of the recreation areas. The room was empty except for Danny and Baez. The two sat down at a table, and a few minutes later, Carlyle reappeared with a man about Danny's age. They both sat across from the detectives.

"Hi, Gary," Baez greeted with a smile. "I'm Maria, and this is Danny. Can you answer some questions for us?"

"It's okay," Carlyle added. "These are my friends I was telling you about. You can tell them anything," she said, rubbing his back and giving him a warm smile.

"Okay," Weathers replied. "Alright, okay, alright, I can answer your questions." He nodded a few times, then rested his folded hands on the table and leaned in eagerly.

"Did you know someone here named Nowak?" Danny asked, trying to establish a baseline.

"Oh yeah," Weathers immediately responded. "He was my friend, I was his friend, we told each other everything," he said, nodding vigorously. "Where is he? I haven't seen him in a few days."

Danny couldn't stop his heart from swelling with hope. This was the most promising lead they'd had their whole investigation. There was a chance that this man knew where Nowak was, where Jamie was. If this man could help them find his little brother, he would visit him every week for the rest of his life. He would do anything to repay him. Someone who helped him to save his brother would be owed every debt there was.

"Well, Gary, I think we have a lot to talk about."


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Things are happening y'all. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

The last time Eddie was on crutches, it was because she was thirteen and had sprained her ankle while running around outside with her friends. Needless to say, it had been a while, and she was very out of practice. Eddie didn't remember it being that difficult to keep her clothes from wrinkling while she walked with the crutches, nor was she prepared for the slow going that the icy ground caused. Not for the first time, Eddie cursed the New York winters.

"You doin' okay, kiddo? You need to sit this one out?" Abetemarco asked her, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her more directly. He was several paces in front of her, on their way towards the apartment building where Nowak's brother lived.

"No, I'm fine, I need to do this," she insisted, despite the pain that laced through her with every breath. Her pain wasn't important. She could see - the whole damn city could see - what that man was doing to Jamie. Her pain was nothing compared to that.

"Okay, just remember I got some Advil in the car if you need it," Abetemarco said with a wave of his hand. They both knew that Advil wouldn't do much for her, but Eddie appreciated the show of normalcy.

It was slow going, but a few minutes and an elevator ride later, Eddie and Abetemarco had arrived at the apartment of Jason Nowak. A quick knock on the door later, and a smiling elderly man opened the door - well, he couldn't have been that elderly, but it didn't look like he had aged very well.

"Can I help you?" he asked, holding the door wide open. Eddie glanced inside as subtly as she could. Nothing looked at all out of the ordinary.

"Yes, I'm Investigator Abetemarco with the DA's office, and this is Officer Janko with the NYPD. We've got some questions about your brother, John," he said.

The man sighed, and gave them a sad smile. "Come on in," he said, jerking his head towards the inside. "I just brewed some fresh coffee. Would you like any?"

"No, thank you, we just need to ask you some questions," Eddie said, maneuvering inside with her crutches as quickly as she could.

"I assume this is about what he's done? It's all over the news. That poor kid." He sighed again, shaking his head. "You know, you wouldn't believe it now, but John used to be the sweetest child. At least, he was until our parents were killed."

"Your parents get murdered and one of you turns into, well, _that_, and you turn out just fine?" Abetemarco asked. Eddie widened her eyes at his bluntness, but if Jason cared, he didn't say anything to it.

"I was older than John, more able to cope with it, I guess," he suggested with a nod. "I've always had my faith to cling to as well, and I tried to share that with John, but he wouldn't even consider it. He was my little brother. I always did everything I could to help him, but he shut me out. We were fine for a while, after he got out of the asylum the first time, but after he killed his poor wife, nothing was the same again. I went to visit him as often as I could, but he didn't want to see me. John didn't want anything to do with me. I swear I haven't given up on him, but the doctors there told me that it would probably be better for John if I stopped coming, said my visits made him too agitated." He shrugged. "That was nearly thirty years ago. I still pray for him every day."

"So none of your family visits him?" Eddie asked.

"No," Jason answered, shaking his head. "My wife stopped visiting when I did, and our children know better than to visit. He always had the same reaction to them as he did me, maybe even worse. Once, shortly after he received word that his own son was killed, he tried to attack my son. That was the last time I let them visit him." He stood to pour himself a cup of coffee. "I don't mean to be rude, but why are you asking me? I already told the other detectives everything I know."

Before Abetemarco could spin some elaborate lie to explain why they were there when the man had already been interviewed by the detectives that were officially working the case, Eddie decided to stick with the truth. "I'm his partner," she blurted out. "Jamie, Officer Reagan, the guy in the video, he's my partner. I have to help him myself, I just have to," she said, letting her emotions bleed into her voice this time. "Abetemarco is a family friend, so he's helping me, even though it's against protocol." Eddie told herself that she was only telling Jason all of this because she thought that he might trust them more, but really, she was only telling him because she felt like it was the right thing to do. Something about him made her trust him, made her want to tell him everything. It just seemed right. "And I thank you for speaking with us, especially since you've already talked with the NYPD," she added.

"It's not a problem at all," Jason responded. He turned back around with his mug of coffee, then sat back down at the table with them. "I want to do everything I can to help that poor boy, and get my brother back to the help he needs. But you must know, I haven't spoken to my brother in thirty years now."

"And you're sure your wife and kids haven't either?" Abetemarco asked.

"My wife, God bless her soul, passed away two years ago. Breast cancer. And like I said, my kids know better than to try to reach out, and they have very active careers anyway."

"And you don't know of anyone that he would reach out to? He escaped from the facility a week ago, so he has to have been staying somewhere," Eddie pointed out.

"I'm sorry, but I don't," Jason answered with a small shrug. "I wish I could be of more help, I really do."

Eddie sighed. "It's okay, you've done all you can," she said, forcing a smile as she rose back to her feet, crutches tucked under her arms.

"Wait a second," he said, stopping them before they could leave. "Back when we were kids, we had a cabin up in the Adirondacks, near Mt. Marcy. That's where our parents were killed. I haven't been back since, but maybe he found his way back there," Jason suggested. "I didn't mention that to the other detectives, I forgot about it until now. Either way, I pray that you find your partner, and that he's okay."

"Thank you so much," Eddie said, moving as quickly as her crutches would take her back to the car. Abetemarco was right on her heels.

"Thank you, sir, thank you," he said, closing the man's door behind him. "Now we're gettin' somewhere," he said, quickly catching up to Eddie.

Hope was a dangerous thing, but Eddie couldn't help but feel it.

* * *

"What exactly did you guys talk about?" Baez asked, her tone neutral. Danny was still trying to calm his racing mind. All he could think was that this guy might have valuable intel on where Jamie was, but Danny knew that if he just started bombarding the man with questions, letting his emotions control him, then the man might shut down, and they could lose their only chance at finding Jamie in time. Normally, Danny would unconsciously take that risk, but this time, he couldn't. This was the most important case of his life. He couldn't afford to mess this up, not when his little brother's life was on the line. No, it was better to let Baez take the lead on the interview, just this once.

"We talked about everything," Gary enthusiastically responded, nodding his head vigorously.

"I think they want you be a little bit more specific, Gary," Dr. Carlyle added in a gentle voice, massaging the man's shoulder with one hand.

"Oh yeah, okay," he said. "We talked about fish and the trees and electricity and Back to the Future and pizza and poptarts and-"

"Gary," Baez calmly interrupted. The man stopped speaking immediately, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Did Nowak ever talk about his son?" Danny asked, unable to keep himself quiet anymore. He'd taken a minute to remind himself to stay in control, and now it was time to get answers.

"Yeah," Gary said, a sad smile appearing on his face. "He loved his son, and missed him very, very much."

"What about revenge? Did he ever talk about that?" Danny continued.

Gary's face contorted in confusion. "No, never. He wasn't always very nice, but he never said anything about that." Danny tried not to let his disappointment show.

"Did he ever mention someone named Reagan? Maybe the son of a man named Reagan? Maybe taking that son somewhere?" Baez asked, her tone still the same. She had always been better at staying put together than Danny.

"Well, maybe, I don't know," Gary said. He slouched in his chair a bit and his whole face fell. "These last few weeks, he was acting really weird, and I didn't always know what he was talking about. He kept talking about needing a nice place to get away to. I thought he meant a summer home, so I told him about my old one by Oneida Lake. It's not that big, but I figured it would be big enough for him and his friend, and he would be welcome to use it, if he ever got out of here. He sounded excited about that."

"Wait, what friend?" Danny asked, filing away everything else that Gary had said. A cabin by Oneida Lake was the best lead they'd had.

"I don't know," Gary said with a small shrug. "He wasn't making a lot of sense. He just said that he was going to need a place to bring a friend for a few days that was far enough away from anyone else that no one could hear them." Danny felt that pit in his stomach once more. That had to be Jamie. He had to be talking about needing a place far enough way that no one would be able to hear the kid scream.

Danny ran a hand over his face and tried to keep himself calm at the realization. He looked away for a moment and tried to focus on the birds in the tree outside the window. They were beautiful. There were six of them, he counted - twice. He could see three separate clouds out the window too. They just looked like blobs.

"We're gonna need to know exactly where that cabin is," Baez said, bringing Danny's attention back to the conversation. He took one more deep breath, then turned his face back towards Gary. The man rattled off an address that Baez quickly jotted down, and that was that. There wasn't much else they could get from him. "Thank you, Gary. You've been very helpful," Baez said with that sweet smile, and held out her hand for him to shake. Hesitantly, he did. Danny did the same, earning the same hesitant handshake in reply.

"Thank you so much," Danny said, this time directing his words towards Dr. Carlyle.

The woman nodded. "I hope you find your brother," she said.

"Me too," Danny muttered.

Moments after leaving the room, Danny's cell phone rang. Without even looking at the caller ID, he answered.

"Reagan," he said.

"Danny, it's Eddie, we've got something," said a hopeful voice on the other end.

"Finally, so do we," he replied. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally looking up. "Intel says Nowak could be at a cabin up north, by-"

"Mount Marcy! Yes!" Eddie joyfully responded. Danny stopped in his tracks.

"Mount Marcy? No, Oneida Lake," he said.

"No, that's impossible. Nowak's brother said their old cabin was by Mount Marcy," Eddie said, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

"Well Nowak's friend at the institution said that he told Nowak all about his cabin by Oneida Lake. That's over a hundred miles away from Mount Marcy." Danny barely resisted the urge to chuck his phone at the wall in frustration. Baez looked confused enough, he didn't need to add that dramatic move as well.

"If there are two cabins, then how do we know which one Jamie's at?" Eddie asked, this time with her breaking at the end.

Danny closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath. "I don't know."


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I am soooooooo sorry that it's been so long. I didn't write at all over spring break, then the week after that I had to catch up on all the schoolwork I procrastinated on during spring break, then the whole coronavirus thing happened and shut down my school, so I had to pack up all my stuff and move out of my dorm and back home, so the past two weeks have been doing that and trying to get into a rhythm with all of my classes, now which are all online and both more difficult and significantly more time consuming. I have no idea when I'll be able to write again, but I had a spare hour so I whipped this out as quickly as I could. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

Helpless was never a word that anyone ever would've used to describe Frank Reagan. He was a pillar of strength, a fortress of calm, and force to be reckoned with, all at the same. Frank Reagan was never helpless.

Except for the times when he was.

Losing Joe, Frank had been helpless. His boy was gunned down and there was nothing Frank could do about it. He had been helpless. After losing one son so violently, Frank vowed that it would never happen again. Really, it was a stupid vow. He couldn't guarantee that and he knew it. Danny was both a hothead and a detective. He'd been shot before and he easily could again. He could be killed in the line of the duty and there was nothing Frank could do about it. Erin, really, was just as hotheaded as her brother, just in a different way. Her career as an ADA put her a little less in the direct line of fire, but prosecutors got attacked by the people they put away all the time. Erin was safer than Danny, but not as safe as Frank wished she was. Then there was Jamie. He should've been on the same level of safety as Erin, as a lawyer, but instead, he made the abrupt career change to be a cop the week after Joe was murdered. He wasn't as hotheaded as either Danny or Erin, but he did have his moments. Still, he was a cop, and a damn good one at that, and that put a target on his back. Just like Danny and Erin, Jamie was always in danger, and recent events proved that Frank couldn't keep them safe, no matter how many times he vowed to himself that he would. Ever since he was in the police academy himself all those years ago, Frank had known never to make a promise that he had no way of being able to keep, and yet, he always did it. Again and again and again Frank had promised families that he would bring them justice, that he would find their missing kid, that he would keep them safe. Usually, he was able to that. But not always, and clearly, not when it mattered most. Because this time, it was with Jamie, and Jamie definitely mattered most. Frank knew he better stop making those promises, even to himself, that he knew he couldn't keep, but it seemed to already be too late.

So there he sat, alone at his desk, his head bowed, eyes closed, and hands folded. Everyone who knew Frank knew that he was Catholic, but he saved most of his praying for mass and the dinner table. However, desperate times called for desperate measures, and if there were ever a time to ask for God to intervene, this was it. Frank didn't want a priest or Mary or any other Saints to intercess for him. He needed to speak directly to God. This was serious business, and he needed to go straight to the top.

"I'll skip most of the formalities, I'm sure You understand," Frank muttered. "I don't mean to sound demanding, but I need You to protect Jamie. I've made peace with You allowing Joe to be taken from us, but we can't lose Jamie, too. I can't lose Jamie, too." Frank paused and shook his head, hoping that God would forgive his insubordination. "So please, I never bother You for much, but I am asking You- no, I'm begging You, please protect my boy. You and I both know how much losing a son hurts, You got Yours back, so please, I'm asking You to bring mine back, too." He paused again, and took a deep breath. "Amen." Frank sat back up straight and crossed himself, and took another breath. It was time to make some phone calls.

Usually, Frank liked to stay out of most the NYPD's cases. There were just too many to get involved in, and he couldn't show his children any preferential treatment by getting involved in their cases. But this was different, and anyone who said any differently was going to get demoted and given a glare that made them wish they were never born.

Right as Frank went to pick up the phone and call Danny, it started to ring, and the caller ID clearly showed that it was Danny calling. Baker must've put him directly through.

"What've you got?" Frank asked the moment he picked up. If he didn't have the time for formalities with God, then he definitely didn't have time for them with Danny.

"A problem, that's what," Danny muttered, but he continued before Frank could answer. "We've got two possible leads as to where that bastard could be keeping Jamie, but the places are over a hundred miles apart."

"Then send two teams, one to each place," Frank immediately responded. That the obvious and logical answer. He tried not to let his elation at finally having a lead bleed too much into his voice.

"Well yeah, obviously, I'm not calling to ask what to do, I'm calling to ask for advice," Danny said, his voice dropping low, as if he didn't want anyone around him to hear what he was saying. "I don't know which team to go with. I wanna be there- no, I need to be there when they find Jamie, but we don't know which lead is gonna pan out, and I can't be in two places at once. We're suitin' up and gettin' ready to head out, so I got about two minutes to decide. Do I go to the cabin where Nowak's parents were killed, or the cabin that his schizo friend told him he could crash at? They're both upstate, a hundred miles apart from each other. One's closer to here by about two hours, but that doesn't mean that's the one where Jamie is."

Frank sighed. "I know you, Danny, so I know you have a gut feeling on which one your brother is at. Your gut is rarely wrong."

"But if it's wrong this time? What if I waste my time goin' to the one that farther away because my gut thought that that one was the right one to go to?" he asked, his voice almost in a shout. "It's not like I can have Eddie go to the other one just in case, she's on crutches. She shouldn't even be out of the hospital."

"Then have Baez go to the other one," Frank answered immediately. "You shouldn't even be going at all, but I know no one can stop you. Split up the detectives who are actually running this case, one with you, and one with Baez. Your two minutes are up by now, so go get it done. You don't have time to second guess yourself. Jamie can't afford that," he said, shaking his head.

"You're right, you're right," Danny muttered in reply. "I'll call you when I've got Jamie."

The line went dead. Slowly, Frank pulled the phone away from his ear and set it back on the receiver. He was thankful that no one was around to see his hand shaking as he did so.

* * *

Jamie's head snapped up at the sound of the door creaking open once again. He tensed automatically, preparing himself for the inevitable. Nowak was going to kill him soon. There was no way that he was going to keep him alive much longer. The man had already filmed himself torturing Jamie several times, he had to be at the point where the only thing left was to kill him. Part of Jamie was terrified for the end, but another part of him - a small part in the back of his mind, the part that adored Mass and knew there was no reason to be scared of death - did feel peace, for more reason than one. He wouldn't be in pain anymore, and he would see his mom and Joe again, and his Creator too. That was something to look forward to. But there was so much he hadn't done yet. He hadn't told Danny and Erin how much they meant to him, how much he appreciated them always protecting him and looking out for him. He hadn't told his dad and Pops that their examples were what truly led him down the path to becoming a cop, more than Danny's teasing or even Joe's death. And most of all, he hadn't told Eddie how he really felt. He hadn't told her that he loved her. He couldn't die without doing that, he just couldn't. So although to die was gain, he couldn't do it yet. He needed to live.

So Jamie held his head high and steeled himself. No matter what Nowak had in store for him, he was going to fight and be strong and survive. There was no other option.

He tracked Nowak the moment the man came into his field of view. It was definitely the first Nowak, the one who had been beating him. Of course Jamie wouldn't be so lucky as to get to see the other one instead.

"John came down here," Nowak said, barely even looking at Jamie - he was too busy looking at the table covered in knives and brass knuckles and the gun. "He shouldn't have done that. He knows better. He knows that I always get what I want." He enunciated every syllable in a way that made his rage even more obvious than if he were screaming the words. Nowak fiddled with the camera once more, stopping when the little red light turned on. The man stepped back for a moment, seemingly checking the frame, then stepped slowly and deliberately towards his captive. He ripped the duct tape off in one smooth movement, then turned on his heel to walk back towards the table.

"I didn't mind it," Jamie said, hoping that his plan wouldn't get him killed before it saved his life. "John's a nice guy, I liked talking to him." He shrugged, trying to appear as at ease as he could, despite his racing heart. He needed to exude nothing but peace and calm. What he was dealing with wasn't just someone out on a twisted revenge mission, it was someone suffering with severe mental illness, with dissociative identity disorder. Knowing that meant that Jamie had to change his whole approach at getting through to Nowak. The dominant personality, which the alter had referred to as Eric, seemed to be the new dominant identity, but the whole reason he existed was because of extreme trauma and stress. It seemed to make sense that in order to get John back into the light, he needed to make the atmosphere and peaceful and non-stressful as possible. Then maybe, just maybe, John would come back, and Jamie could figure out his next move from there. Honestly, he would be surprised enough if his plan even worked. Jamie took as deep a breath as he could without drawing attention to it. Calm, he needed to make Nowak calm - and keep himself calm while he was at it.

"I don't care, John doesn't get to just do whatever he wants. I'm in charge for a reason," Nowak said, shaking his head. He picked up one knife, examined it, then set it down.

"You're just trying to protect him," Jamie said. "John's been through a lot, and he needs you, right?"

Nowak sighed. "Exactly. I'm doing this for him, for our son. John would never be able to get the revenge that we need."

Jamie swallowed. This wasn't working, he wasn't getting anywhere. Talking about revenge would have the opposite effect that Jamie needed, but it wasn't as if he could just change the subject.

"Maybe you're underestimating him," Jamie ventured, possibly signing his own death warrant in the process. It was either going to work, or get him killed even faster than before. "Maybe he could do it. Maybe he could do exactly what he needs to, to get peace. That's really all you guys need, right? Peace?" Nowak picked up another knife, and turned to look at him. There was something in his eyes that Jamie couldn't quite identify. Rage? Confusion? "I mean, you could always see, right? I'm not going anywhere," he said with a smile. "Everything's alright. I can't do anything. There's no one else around. If John doesn't want to, that's okay, you can." He paused for a moment. Nowak was still silent, but he was ever so slowly lowering the knife he'd grabbed. "So what do you say? How about we see what John thinks? This is about him, right?"

"It's about John," Nowak muttered, barely loud enough for Jamie to be able to hear him. He gently put the knife back on the table and closed his eyes. "Everything is okay," he whispered. His brow scrunched up as if he were in pain, and one hand went up to massage his temple. "It's okay," he said again, a little bit louder.

Jamie took a quick glance at the camera, noticing that it was still blinking, and just as quickly brought his attention back to Nowak. The man grunted, then staggered for a second, then stood still. Slowly, he looked back up at Jamie, and Jamie knew he'd done it. Well, God had done it, because there was absolutely no way that Jamie had managed to pull that off all by himself.

"Jamie? You're still here?"


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: I'm back! Sorry, I had some pretty horrendous writer's block with this fic, and I didn't wanna just "push through it" because then this chapter would've sucked, and you guys deserved a good chapter. But then the Blue Bloods finale happened and I got hit with inspiration for this fic because of it! I'm really proud of this chapter, and I'm glad that I stepped back and took my time to make it good instead of forcing myself to write something that I wasn't into. As always, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

Part of Danny wished that he had chosen to go to Oneida Lake instead of Mt. Marcy, but it was much too late to change his mind. He'd chosen Mt. Marcy, following his gut, and hopefully, he was right. It seemed more likely to him that a crazed murderer would take his captive to a place that held more meaning to him than a place that a friend had simply recommended, but still. He could be wrong. Baez and her SWAT team could arrive at the cabin on Oneida Lake and find Jamie and Danny wouldn't even be there. Or, they could arrive and find no one, and then Danny would have picked the right cabin to go to. Unless they were both wrong. Oh, damn, what if they were both wrong? What if Jamie wasn't at either cabin? Danny ran a hand over his face in frustration and let out a sigh. He couldn't afford to think like that. If that was the case, then so be it. There wasn't anything that Danny could do to change that. All he could do was hope and pray and beg God to let Jamie be okay.

Hopefully, he would get word from Baez within the hour that they'd cleared the cabin on Oneida Lake. She and her team would be there soon, but it would be another hour or so before Danny and his team arrived at the cabin on Mt. Marcy. Waiting was hard, but at least he was waiting to be able to do something. His dad and Erin and Eddie were waiting just to wait. The three of them couldn't do anything to help in this part of the search, and Danny just couldn't imagine that. Even Abetemarco had to wait, and while the man didn't care about Jamie nearly as much as the rest of them did - he barely knew the kid, so it wasn't as if Danny faulted him for that - he cared about Erin like a sister, and hated seeing her hurting. Not being able to do anything at this point to help was hell for anyone who had to endure it. Danny was just glad he didn't have to be one of them.

He sat there, leg bouncing, as he and a SWAT team continued up the drive to Mt. Marcy. As much as Danny wanted to be the one driving, he understood why he couldn't. Too much "emotional turmoil" was the cited reason, and Danny couldn't disagree. Of course he was in emotional turmoil. Who in his shoes wouldn't be? But logically, he knew that he wouldn't be as safe a driver in the state that he was in, so he understood the decision. The downside of that was that it left Danny to sit there, and wait. And wait. And wait.

Waiting was always the hardest part, especially in police work. Danny had never been a particularly patient person to begin with, whether it was waiting his turn to play with a certain toy as a child, or biding his time for the opportune moment to ask Linda out, he'd just never been good at it. In police work, his patience was just as low. Waiting for a judge to sign off on a warrant or waiting for a witness to finally cooperate was the bane of Danny's existence. But nothing was worse than this. It was all he could do to keep his anger at the man who was doing this to his little brother in check.

So he sat there, leg still bouncing, much to the displeasure of the officer seated next to him, and thought of all the worst case scenarios. They could get to the cabin and find Jamie's body. They could get there and find him, only for him to die in Danny's arms. They could get there and Jamie wasn't there at all. There were endless terrible possibilities, and they were playing on repeat in Danny's mind.

He was finally brought out of his dark imagination by the sound of his phone ringing. It was Baez. Danny answered immediately.

"What's the word?" he asked.

"He's not here," Baez replied. Danny's heart soared and fell at the same time. As much as he wanted to be there to rescue his little brother, not just for his own sake but for Jamie's too, it would've been better if Baez had found him and been able to tell Danny that he was safe. "The place is covered in dust. I don't think anyone has been here in a long time. We're gonna head back to the city. There's nothing else we can do here. Hope you have better luck on your end," she said, and Danny could tell that her hope was genuine.

"Thanks," he gruffly replied, then hung up. She was right. There was nothing else that could be done at the cabin by the lake, but it still stung that they'd turned up nothing. On the bright side - if there even was one - Danny's gut had been right that Oneida Lake was not the location. He couldn't bring himself to be too pleased.

The next two hours were the longest two hours of Danny's life. At the very least, he didn't have to be the one to inform his family that Oneida Lake was a dead end. He could only hope and pray for better luck at Mt. Marcy.

By the time the van stopped a safe distance away from the cabin, Danny was practically vibrating. He barely controlled his shaking hands to make sure that all of his TAC gear was in place, then moved to take point.

"Wait a second," the lead SWAT officer said, holding a hand out in front of Danny. "Are you sure you're good to take point?" he asked him. It wasn't accusatory, it was an honest question. The man wanted to take care of his own officers just as much as Danny needed to get to Jamie, so Danny couldn't blame him.

"Hell yeah," he replied, and after a brief moment, Danny found that he meant it. With his gun in his hands and his comm in and everything set to go, Danny found that he was no longer shaking. His anger had only continued to grow, but instead of being the explosive anger that it often was, this time, it was calm. There was a serenity that he felt that he didn't care to explain or even think about. He was going to find Jamie, kill the man who took him - or at the very least apprehend, but Danny would've been lying if he said he didn't prefer to kill him - and everything would be fine.

After a quick nod from the detective who actually was the lead on the case - a man whose name Danny hadn't cared to pay attention to, his one track mind focused solely on finding Jamie - Danny took point, and led the way up to the cabin. He knew he should thank that lead detective for breaking so much protocol in allowing Danny to even be there, much less be the one to lead the charge, but that probably wasn't going to happen. If they found Jamie, then Danny would be too focused on him to think about it, and if they didn't find him... well, there would be a lot more on his mind than thanking the detective.

Danny quickly made his way through the trees and to the front door of the cabin, the swarm of SWAT officers backing him up. As soon as everyone was in position, he moved to the side and let the the officers with the small battering ram break down the door. It only took one thrust and the door swung open with a loud crash as the wood broke free from the lock.

"NYPD!" Danny shouted, quickly moving inside and beginning to clear the cabin. There was food on the table, and used dishes on the counter. The light in the bathroom was left on. Someone was still there, in that cabin.

"No! It's okay!"

Danny stopped in his tracks. It was muffled, but it was definitely Jamie. It was coming from inside the cabin, somewhere below them. As a few of the SWAT officers went to the stairs to clear the second floor, Danny began to search for a basement or cellar.

"Jamie!" he called out, but he didn't get any reply. His heart beating out of his chest, Danny frantically looked for another door, but there wasn't one. They'd checked every room and there wasn't any other door that could lead to a basement. "Jamie!" he called out again, once more not getting a reply. "Kid, where are you?" He went through the house once more, every officer he saw wearing the same look of confusion.

"Detective, here!" one of them finally called out from the kitchen hallway. The officer had pulled a rug aside, revealing a hatch. That had to be it. The officer pulled the hatch up, it's hinges squeaking just like every other door in the cabin, and Danny prepared to go down.

"NYPD!" he shouted once more. "Come out with your hands up!" There was only silence. After a moment, Danny slowly started down the stairs, hoping he wasn't about to a get a bullet or a knife in his legs. He kept his gun leveled and turned towards the bulk of the room as soon as he could, his heart freezing in his chest at what he saw.

It was Jamie, still alive but covered in blood, with Eric Nowak holding a knife tight across the kid's neck, a dribble of blood already making its way down his brother's pale throat. The man was holding Jamie like a human shield, his head barely visible at all. In the low lighting, Danny didn't trust himself enough to not hit his brother if he risked the shot. But if he didn't act quickly, the crazed man was going to end Jamie's life right in front of him, and Danny would be forced to watch.

* * *

"Yeah, John, of course I'm still here," Jamie said with a smile, almost unbelieving that his plan was actually working. "But you can help me get out of here," he mentioned, hopeful that he wouldn't shut the man down and allow the alter to take his place.

"I don't know, I don't know," John repeated. "If Eric still has you here, then it's probably for a reason." He was wringing his hands together and shaking his head, but he went to the fridge in the back of the room and quickly returned with another bottle of water. He once again allowed Jamie to drink some, but didn't immediately go put it away.

"You know that Eric can't have any good reason to keep me here," Jamie said. "I'm a police officer, and Eric kidnapped me. Whatever reason he has for me here, it isn't a good one." He shook his head with a sad smile. "But you can help me get out of here. You'd be a hero, John. Don't you wanna be a hero?"

John cringed. "But Eric really knows what's best. If he thinks I need this, then he's probably right. I don't really see how hurting you is going to protect me, but Eric is smart, he knows what he's doing. He's been taking care of me for a while now, and he's doing a pretty good job." He shook his head, then stared at the floor. He clearly knew what the right thing to do was, but he was too scared to do it.

"I'm sure he has, but this is gonna be a matter of life and death here, John," Jamie said, saying the man's name again. That usually helped to psychologically build a connection and make the man want to help him. "If you don't help me, Eric is going to kill me. You know that. Look what he's already done to me." Jamie didn't have a mirror, but he didn't need his Harvard law degree to know that he looked like a mess. A GSW, stab wound, slashes, and multiple beatings all added up to make him look like an extra in a horror movie. "But you can help. You can be a hero and cut this tape, and help me to get out of here." Jamie wasn't stupid. He knew that even if John simply cut the tape, he wouldn't be able to get out of there himself. He had lost a significant amount of blood. Even turning his head made him dizzy. There was no way that he would be able to even stand, much less walk up a flight of stairs and out of the building he was being kept in, and then go find a phone or someone who could help him. That just wasn't going to happen. He needed John to want to help him, and to be willing to. "Come on, Johnny. Everyone wants to be a hero," he repeated, hoping his smile looked genuine rather than crazed. "Don't you wanna be a hero?"

John nodded. He kept wringing his hands, then looked towards the stairs, as if he were expecting Eric to come crashing down them and throttle him for helping their captive. But he took a deep breath, and walked towards the table with the knives and other horrible things, picking up one of the knives. Jamie's heart was pounding, but he forced himself to stay as calm as he could. John came back over to him, and slid the knife through the duct tape on Jamie's wrists, then the tape on his ankles. John set the knife to the side, then looked back at Jamie.

"You're doing a great job, John, thank you," Jamie said, even more grateful than he would let slip. It was terrifying being so close to this man who had tortured him, but not being even with the same man at all. They just had the same face. "Do you think you can help me upstairs?" he asked. One step at a time.

"Yeah, I think-"

A sudden crash upstairs gave them both a jolt, and the shout of "NYPD" had Jamie's heart in his stomach. Under any other circumstances, that would've been the greatest thing he'd ever heard, but he had been making real progress with John, and this sudden rescue would likely end in Eric returning.

John looked back at him, his face twisting and contorting as his rage grew.

"Reagan," he growled. Eric was taking over once again. "I'm gonna kill you, and I'm gonna kill every single one of them."

"No! It's okay!" he quickly shouted, trying to draw all of Nowak's attention back to him. "It's okay, John, it's all gonna be okay," he said, but it was probably too late. Eric had taken control once again. Jamie could hear his brother shouting for him, and it took all of his willpower to remain quiet.

"I have to protect John from them, from you, from everything," Eric said. He grabbed Jamie around the front of his shoulders and hoisted him up, drawing out a gasp of pain. Jamie saw stars for a moment, then his vision began to fade around the edges, but he fought it, because Danny was coming, and although Danny did ruin his plan, he was still going to get him out of this. He just had to stay conscious.

Jamie heard the telltale sound of the door opening. He still couldn't see it.

"NYPD! Come out with your hands up!"

That was definitely Danny, he hadn't been imagining things. Danny was there. His big brother was there, everything was going to be okay, he was going to be okay. Despite himself, Jamie smiled. The knife bit into his neck, turning his grin into a grimace. Jamie could feel the blood beginning to trail down his neck as the knife dug further into his skin.

"NYPD," Danny repeated, calmer, finally coming into sight. Jamie could've cried, seeing his brother again. "Now put the knife down, and let him go."

"You know I can't do that," Eric said, keeping himself as hidden as he could behind Jamie's smaller body. "Get out of here, now, or I slit his throat."

"And you know I can't do that," Danny immediately responded.

"John, I know you're still in there, I know you can hear me," Jamie said, wincing against the pain as he spoke, the knife only digging into his skin even more. "It's gonna be okay, but you have to put the knife down."

"John's gone!" Eric shouted, pressing the knife harder against him. "I'm here now! I have to protect him!"

"You feel protective over John?" Danny confirmed, slowly moving further down the stairs and into the basement itself, his gun still raised. "You need to take care of him?" Jamie could see Eric nod vigorously out of the corner of his eye. "Well I need to protect Jamie. I need to take care of Jamie. So how about you let him go, and then I can take care of him, and you can take care of John."

"I can't do that," Eric repeated. "This is for John, John needs this, I have to do this."

"No he doesn't," Jamie interjected, his eyes staring straight at Danny. "John doesn't need this. He told me himself that he doesn't, you know that. You know John doesn't need this or want this. John has accepted what happened and moved on. You're the only one who hasn't."

Eric adjusted his grip on the knife, and Jamie could feel his handle on him loosen. As much as Jamie wanted the man to let him go, he knew that if Eric physically let him go, he would fall straight to the ground. Eric was the only thing keeping him upright.

"I have to protect him, I have to get revenge for him," Eric said.

"And you've done that," Danny said, a little louder than he needed to, but Jamie quickly saw why in his peripheral vision. Danny was trying to cover up the noise of the SWAT officer at the top of the stairs. That man - or woman, Jamie couldn't tell from the angle - had a much better shot at Nowak than Danny did. But Jamie didn't want them to kill him. He was sick, it wasn't his fault, he just needed better help. "You've made our family suffer like you did, now let him go," Danny continued at a more normal volume.

"You're gonna be okay," Jamie added, eyes pleading with Danny to not give the signal to shoot. "You just need more help."

"I gotta help John, I'd do anything for John," Eric said, his resolve falling.

"You'd do anything for John because you love him," Danny said. "I'd do anything for the people I love, too. Anything." Danny smiled apologetically at Jamie, then flicked his hand towards the officer on the stairs.

The world was suddenly so loud and deathly quiet at the same time. On a surface level, Jamie could register the sound of the gunshot, and Nowak screaming, but as Nowak fell to the ground, he took Jamie with him. The knife was gone from his neck, but it didn't matter, because Jamie was going to die anyway. He landed on his shoulder, right where Nowak had stabbed him, and Jamie vaguely recognized that he was screaming too. His vision was fading out at the edges, Nowak's screams turning fuzzy in his ears. Danny was running towards him. His mouth was moving, but Jamie couldn't tell what he was saying. The darkness kept encroaching more and more with every passing moment, and Jamie found himself wanting to embrace it. His mother was in the darkness. Joe was in the darkness. He hadn't seen either one of them in so long. Maybe he could just visit, could just see them one more time. What harm could it do?

Danny's hands were on him, and he could just barely make out the tears in his brother's eyes as the darkness covered his vision. Mom and Joe were waiting for him, and he just had to see them, one more time.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: This is drawing to a close my friends. I anticipate only one more chapter after this, maybe an epilogue after that, I'm not sure. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

"Jamie!" Danny shouted as he ran towards his little brother. The SWAT officer rushed down from where he'd taken the shot on the stairs and over to the howling Nowak. The man was clutching his bleeding thigh, but Danny couldn't bring himself to care. Nowak was lucky he was even alive. If Danny had it his way, the man would be dead for what he did to Jamie. "Come on, kid," he muttered, laying Jamie's head in his lap. "You gotta stay with me, open your eyes," he said, but Jamie remained silent, unconscious, dea-

No, no he wasn't dead, he couldn't die, not after everything. Jamie couldn't survive all that only to die in Danny's arms. He wouldn't let that happen.

"I need a medic down here!" he shouted, somewhat unnecessarily, since of course they needed a medic and a bus, that was a given. Danny kept his attention focused on his little brother. His shoulder was bleeding heavily, and there was just so much blood all over. Jamie didn't deserve this. Nowak's beef had been with their father, not Jamie. Why did he have to take it all out on his little brother? It wasn't fair.

Danny tried to pay attention to the rise and fall of his brother's chest before anything else. As long as Jamie kept breathing, it would be okay. But there was just so much blood. Danny couldn't even tell where it all was coming from, only that there was way too much of it, and they needed a medic or else Jamie wasn't going to make it.

"Come on, kid, don't do this to me," Danny muttered, gently carding his fingers through Jamie's hair to check for head wounds. At least that was one thing that Jamie seemed to have been spared. "Do not make me lose another little brother." He glanced up and still didn't see a medic, just the SWAT officer putting pressure on Nowak's leg. The man seemed to have passed out. Danny didn't care. "Where the hell is that medic?" he shouted again.

"Bus got backed up," the SWAT officer said. "It's gonna take them another minute."

"Does it look like he has another minute?" Danny fired back, gesturing towards his little brother, dying in his arms. "I'll meet 'em there," he muttered. Danny gathered Jamie into his arms as best he could, and stood up, thankful for once that his little brother was a string bean, otherwise the adrenaline alone probably wouldn't have been enough to allow Danny to carry him.

"You really shouldn't move him," the SWAT officer added. Danny didn't respond. He knew that, but he also knew that if he didn't do something, Jamie was going to die. So, as carefully as he could, he carried his little brother up the stairs and through the hatch. "Make a hole!" he shouted as he moved through the cabin, the other SWAT officers thankfully moving around him. Danny caught the other detective's eye as he quickly moved out the front the door. "Call the commissioner!" he called out to the detective. Someone needed to update his father, but Danny couldn't hold onto Jamie and call his father at the same time.

He could hear the sirens approaching, getting louder every second. If they were too late, Danny didn't know what he'd do.

"You hold on, kid, okay?" he said to his brother, walking as briskly as he could with Jamie in his arms. He didn't pay any mind to the SWAT officers around him, staring, cringing at the sight of the kid covered in his own blood. Danny kept going until he passed the SWAT vans and could see the ambulances coming up the winding road through the trees. He'd succeeded in getting Jamie as close to the ambulances as he possibly could. There wasn't anything else he could do but wait. It was all up to the EMTs to get Jamie loaded onto the ambulance and to the nearest hospital. Thankfully, there was one nearby. Mt. Marcy was a popular summer getaway, and that meant there were often a lot of accidents. There was a local hospital just a few miles away that should have everything they needed to save Jamie, even if only to send him to a much larger hospital once he was stabilized - the drive up had been long, and Danny hadn't had much else to do other than to make sure there was a hospital nearby.

Two ambulances pulled up right next to Danny, the EMTs immediately hopping out and pulling out a gurney. They brought it over and Danny quickly laid his little brother onto it, despite the panic he felt once he lost that contact. But it was okay, Jamie was going to be okay, the EMTs were going to do their jobs and it was going to be okay.

"I'm his brother, I'm coming with him," Danny said, leaving no room for argument from either the EMTs or the SWAT commander. Danny glared at the latter man, practically daring him to tell him to follow protocol and stay on scene. Wisely, the man remained silent, giving a terse nod, and the EMTs decided not to interfere. Danny hopped into the ambulance and stood in the corner, as out of the way as he could be while still staying in close proximity to his little brother.

There was nothing Danny could do but watch as the EMTs bustled around Jamie, shouting out things that Danny didn't understand about blood pressure and meds and IVs and transfusions and all kinds of things. There was a reason that none of the Reagans had gone into the medical field. That had always been Linda's area of expertise, and even with her help, it still all went right over Danny's head.

Danny didn't start panicking in earnest until someone shouted something about "crashing" and they began CPR.

"What's going on? You have to save him!" he shouted, despite knowing full well that that was exactly what the EMTs were trying to do. He wanted to reach forward and grab onto Jamie's hand at least, but the EMTs were keeping him out of the way. There wasn't anything Danny could do but stand there, and watch, his heart racing faster and faster with every passing second as he watched his little brother dying in front of him. The seconds felt like hours and mere moments at the same time. It was as if the world outside had stopped, everything frozen in its place, while the world inside the ambulance was moving at twice the normal speed. It all came down to Danny and Jamie. Danny, standing there, helpless, watching as forces out of his control tried to rip his little brother away from him, and Jamie, lying on that gurney, cold and covered in blood, the EMTs doing everything in their power to save his life, even though it seemed like it might already be too late.

No, it wasn't too late. It couldn't be too late. Danny did not accept the possibility that it could be too late. The EMTs were going to get their asses in gear and save Jamie's life and the kid was going to go home from the hospital feeling good as new, ready to get back on the force and to doing what he did best, being the best cop that Danny knew. It wasn't too late. Jamie was strong and he was going to survive this. If anyone could survive this, it was Jamie.

"Come on, kid, you fight, don't you dare give up," Danny said through clenched teeth, ignoring the tears that he knew were streaming down his own face. "Breathe, kid, come on. Don't You take him from me, God, not Jamie too," he said, letting some of his anger at Nowak transfer to God. He'd go to confession later, but right now, he was pissed and he didn't care who knew it.

But, like an answer to prayer, the EMTs seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, saying that they had him back.

"We've got him for now," one of them said to Danny, but he barely paid the woman any attention. Jamie was the only one that his focus was on. The panic slightly subsided, Danny reached out and took Jamie's hand in his own. It was still warm, and Danny could feel the blood running through his brother's veins. He really was still alive. He would be okay.

Less than a minute later, the ambulance stopped, and the EMTs continued their flurry of action. The doors opened up and they immediately got the gurney out of the bus, ripping him away from Danny's hand. He quickly followed them out of the bus and into the hospital, doing everything he could to stay right there next to him.

The inevitable came far too quickly.

"Sir, you can't go back there," some nurse told him, holding up a hand to stop him. "Family has to wait out here, I'm sorry," she said. "Why don't you come with me and fill out some medical history forms while you wait? It needs to be done and it'll keep you busy," she suggested, a kind smile on her face.

Danny took in a deep breath, watching through the tiny windows in those massive doors as the medical personnel wheeled Jamie out of sight. It was completely out of Danny's control now. He couldn't even hold his little brother's hand and tell him it was gonna be okay. He could only fill out forms, and pray.

Finally, Danny nodded, and let the nurse lead him to the waiting area. She left for a minute, then quickly came back with a bunch of forms on a clipboard, and a paper cup filled with water. The young woman gave him a sad smile, then went back to work.

The medical forms were endless, which was sort of a blessing in disguise. The nurse had been right when she said that it would keep him busy, and keeping busy was the way that Danny coped with basically everything, so at least there was that silver lining. Danny spent the next hour going over the forms with a fine toothed comb, double and triple checking them, because once they were complete, he would be left alone with his thoughts, and he wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready to be bombarded with the worst case scenarios again, to mentally go through funeral preparations that his pessimism insisted were likely to be needed. He couldn't do it.

But the medical forms couldn't last forever. After the triple check, Danny sighed, stood, and brought them over to the counter, handing them over to the receptionist and explaining who he was and which patient Jamie was. But that couldn't last forever either. Danny went back to his seat. His leg began bouncing two seconds after sitting down. The paper cup was empty. Danny got up and threw it away, purposely going to the garbage can at the far end of the waiting room. As he threw it away, Danny truly noticed his hands for the first time. They were covered in dried blood. Jamie's blood. Danny closed his eyes and shook his head. No. Absolutely not. No. No.

Danny started for the bathroom, his brisk walk just short of a jog. He slammed and locked the door behind him, thankful that it was a one person restroom. He barely made it to the toilet before he threw up the contents of his stomach - only a single protein bar. After he stopped retching, he lay there for a moment, head against the porcelain. Danny didn't have the energy to be disgusted. He didn't have the energy to deal with any of this. He couldn't do this, he just couldn't lose another brother. Losing Joe had been the worst experience of his entire life. Losing Jamie would break him forever. Jamie was the light of their family. Growing up he'd always been a little ball of sunshine, the heart of the family, loved and adored by everyone who met him. Danny would've been lying if he said he'd never been jealous of the attention Jamie had received, which was maybe part of the reason why he'd acted out so much as a teenager. But Jamie had always remained that light, and had always been one of the better Catholics of the family. What happened to Jamie was a cruel twist of fate, something that if anyone deserved, it was Danny, not Jamie. He wished Nowak had targeted him instead.

With another deep breath, Danny stood up and flushed the remains of his protein bar down the toilet. He stepped to the sink, and began fervently washing the dried blood off his hands. Layer after layer of soap he lathered on, scrubbing so hard his fingers ached, but still, Danny could feel the blood on his hands, pooling around them and soaking them and permeating his very flesh and-

The crash brought Danny back to reality, rather than the pain in his knuckles from where he punched the mirror, the broken shards now lying scattered across the bathroom floor. Danny let out a breath he didn't remember holding in, and looked down at his now throbbing hand. Once again, it was bloody, but this time, it was his own blood. That was much better than Jamie's.

A knock on the door stole his attention.

"Are you alright in there?" someone asked.

"Yeah, sorry, everything's fine," he replied, despite the fact that everything was definitely not fine. He wiped off all the blood he could with a paper towel, then grabbed a few more to wrap around his knuckles. He would have to notify someone about the mess, and maybe get his hand looked at - not that he cared about his hand, but it could give him something else to focus on, so he tossed the idea back and forth in his head.

Danny left the restroom, paying no attention to the nurse asking him if he was okay, and made his way back to the front desk in the waiting area. The receptionist he'd talked to earlier was still there.

"I'm sorry, but I kind of punched the mirror - got tired of seein' my ugly mug, ya know? - and now there's kind of glass all over the floor," he said with a sardonic smile. "Sorry about that." He thumped his good hand on the counter once before turning around and heading back towards where he had been sitting earlier. Danny looked at his watch. He'd been at the hospital for less than an hour. He sighed. Watching the clock had never been something that offered him any solace at all. It was time to call Erin, assuming she hadn't been contacted already.

She picked up on the first ring.

"Finally, tell me what's going on," Erin demanded.

"He's alive," Danny immediately responded, knowing that it was best to get that most important bit of information out as soon as possible. "Who all is with you?" he asked. He'd rather not have to share the details more than once.

"Everyone but Dad. Pops, Anthony, Eddie, Linda, and all the kids," she replied.

"Okay, don't put it on speaker, just tell them what's most important," he said. "Jamie's pretty hurt. He's been shot and stabbed and sliced and beaten and who knows what else. They haven't told me anything since taking him back, but I think blood loss was their main concern. We're at Mt. Marcy Memorial Hospital," he finished. There wasn't anything else he could tell them. He didn't know anything else.

"We'll be there as soon as we can," Erin replied, her voice small and scared. Danny wished he could provide his little sister some words of comfort, but he had none. So instead, in true Reagan fashion, he just hung up. There was nothing else he could say.

A few minutes later, he called Baez and informed her of what happened. She was back in the city and would take care of everything she could, giving him updates on the case's progression. Once those two calls were over, Danny knew he needed to call his dad, to make sure that the commissioner had truly been told of what happened, but he was dreading it. He couldn't just call him as a detective updating his commissioner, he had to call him as a son talking to his father. It was easier to fail as a detective than it was to fail as a brother and a son. But either way, it was something he had to do. His hand had already stopped bleeding, and although it did still throb, it didn't hurt quite enough for Danny to think he'd broken anything, so going to get it checked out would just be a waste of time. It would be several hours before anyone else arrived at the hospital. He would be alone for the foreseeable future. It was time to call his dad.

After taking another deep breath, Danny pulled his phone back out of his pocket, and tapped on the commissioner's office number. As per usual, it was Baker who picked up.

"Commissioner Reagan's office," she responded, ever the professional.

"Hey, Baker, it's Danny," he replied. "Hopefully someone already told him that Jamie's alive."

"Yes, Detective Ramirez contacted him about it just over an hour ago," Baker immediately responded. Danny filed away the information on the detective's name in case he was later expected to actually know it, then moved on to more important things. "I'll put you through the commissioner."

Only a moment later, his father was on the line.

"How are you holding up?" his father asked.

"As well as can be expected," Danny responded, and that was as emotional as he was willing to get. "I don't have an update on Jamie. They haven't told me anything since they took him back. I just called Erin, she and the others are heading up now. What about you? Can you make it up?" he asked.

"He is my son. Of course I can make it up," the commissioner replied, sounding almost offended that Danny even thought he wouldn't be able to.

"Okay, okay, good. I'll let you know if they tell me anything," Danny said, giving his dad a clear indication that he was ready to end the conversation.

"Get some rest," his dad said. "You've earned it."

Instead of telling his dad just how wrong he was, Danny hung up. Not only had he definitely not earned a rest, despite what his father said, but he definitely would not be resting until he knew that Jamie was going to be okay.

Jamie had to be okay.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Here it is! At long last, I have finally finished this fic. Despite several hiccups along the way, I have truly enjoyed writing it, and I hope that you have enjoyed reading it. This last chapter did take a hot minute, but I think I finally have it to somewhere that I am proud of it, and proud of how it wraps it up. As always, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review :)**

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Night turned into day in at a slow, steady pace, almost like watching paint dry. While watching, you almost can't even tell the difference. You can only see it if you look away for a while, and then come back. Coming back into consciousness happened the same way, only, Jamie didn't have the option to seemingly speed up the process by looking away. He had to take the slow, steady pace back to the land of the living, while everyone else got to see his progress only once it was finished. But, much like the coming dawn, Jamie's ascent into consciousness took much longer than he would've liked. It was a grueling battle, but a pointless one. No matter how hard he fought, there wasn't anything he could do to speed up the process. He could only wait as his body recovered and allowed him to wake.

He could hear bits of conversation, members of his family saying something to each other every now and then. Generally, they were talking to him, telling him to be strong, to get better, to just wake up damnit-. That one was usually Danny, although Jamie thought he caught it from Eddie once too. He wanted to tell them that he was trying, he was trying so damn hard, but he wasn't in charge of his own body. Waiting was all he could do.

No matter what, there was always a weight on his hand. Sometimes it would move, but it was always replaced. Someone was always holding his hand. Jamie tried so hard to squeeze the hand back, to let them know that he was fighting to get back to them, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop Eddie and Erin from crying, or Danny from lashing out at every nurse who told him that there was nothing they could do to make Jamie wake up. He couldn't do anything.

Being so helpless in that hospital bed was only marginally better than being so helpless in Nowak's cellar. He was in a lot less pain, thanks to what was probably morphine, and he knew that his family was with him, but he didn't know when, or even if, he would ever see them again. On the upside, Jamie got to hear all about what happened to Nowak. The man was treated for his GSW and sent to a high security psychiatric hospital, where he would get the care he needed, better care than the last hospital he was admitted to. Nowak had already been deemed unfit to stand trial, a sentiment that, had he been able to, Jamie would've wholeheartedly agreed with. As much as Jamie wanted to hate the man for what he did to him, he couldn't. He knew it wasn't totally Nowak's fault, and Jamie couldn't truly hate him. It was hard, knowing that everyone in the city had seen so much of what had been done to him, that his family had been put through such hell and that there was even more footage that Nowak had that cops had now seen. Jamie wasn't known for being vulnerable, so even unconscious in a coma, knowing that so many people had seen him at his lowest was difficult to stomach.

Time didn't pass in a way that Jamie was able to measure, so he didn't know how long it had been when he finally, freaking finally, began to come around. The light was shining just a little bit brighter, and for the first time, Jamie was actually able to feel his fingers twitching when he tried to move them. Clearly, his family noticed too, since there was an uproar every time he was able to move. It couldn't have been too much longer - or maybe it was, he didn't have any way of knowing - that Jamie finally managed to open his eyes. The world was brighter than he remembered, but the sight of Eddie, sitting next to him, fast asleep, was so beautiful that Jamie forced himself to keep his eyes open. She was asleep on his arm, her chair pulled as close to Jamie's hospital bed as it could be. With all the strength he could muster, Jamie moved his arm, jostling it under her enough that Eddie woke. She woke slowly, then all at once. Her beautiful blue eyes fluttered open, half-lidded, slowly searching around her. When Jamie managed to move his arm once more, her attention immediately snapped to him.

"Jamie!" She shot up in her seat, her eyes wide. "You're awake, should I call a nurse? Danny just stepped out for coffee and-" she broke off, just staring at him.

"Hey," he managed to mutter, his voice scratchy. Jamie even smiled at her, thankful for the effects of the heavy pain meds he had to be on.

"Hey, yourself," Eddie replied, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm just so glad you're okay." Slowly, likely as not to hurt him, Eddie fell onto his chest, wrapping herself around him as much as she could in their present condition. Jamie wrapped his mostly uninjured arm around her, pulling her close. He could smell her sweet strawberry shampoo. It was the most beautiful scent in the world. Jamie closed his eyes, holding her close, breathing in her presence. He loved her.

After at least a full minute, Eddie finally pulled away. "Don't you ever do something like that ever again," she scolded, but her smile and tears betrayed any effect it might have had.

"Trust me, I don't plan on it," he replied, holding back a chuckle. Even with the pain meds, that would probably still hurt quite a bit.

"I'm gone for five minutes and that's when you finally wake up?"

Jamie and Eddie turned to look at the door, where Danny was standing, holding two cups of coffee and doing his damn best to look angry. He walked further into the room and set down the cups on the table.

"You've been asleep for a week and when I'm gone you finally decide to get up. It's not like you could've done that while I was here, I'm only the guy who saved your life, it's whatever," he muttered as he sat down in the seat next to Eddie. Danny sighed and shook his head, looking much more serious. "You scared us, kid. How ya feelin'?"

"How do you think?" Jamie muttered back in reply, glancing down at his various injuries before making eye contact with his brother.

"You're right," Danny admitted, holding up his hands in surrender. "Stupid question, I know."

"Besides, pain meds, are pretty great," Jamie continued with a smile.

Danny gave a soft laugh and nodded, but Eddie was biting her lip and looking between the two of them.

"You should probably call everyone," she said to Danny. "Let them all know that he's awake." He shrugged, but gave an affirmative grunt.

"I suppose you're right," he said, slapping the arms of the chair before standing up. Danny took another sip of his coffee before he made a move for the door. "You sure you're good, kid?" he asked Jamie.

"All things considered, I feel pretty good," Jamie admitted. He hadn't been kidding when he said that pain meds were a good thing. They were doing wonders for him.

"I'll be right back," Danny assured him, somewhat needlessly. "I promise." He closed the door gently behind him, and pulled out his phone as he walked away.

Jamie's attention was brought back to Eddie, who was staring at him with a curious look on her face.

"He hasn't left your side for more than a few hours in total since you were brought here," she said, but the look on her face didn't go away. "He, uh... He really cares about you, a lot." Jamie had a feeling that Danny's newfound appreciation for brotherly love wasn't exactly what Eddie truly wanted to talk about.

"I know he does," Jamie replied. "I get the feeling you didn't leave too often, either."

"Well of course not," she immediately responded. "You're my partner, I stick with you. I wasn't there for you throughout all of this, so I have to be here now." Tears gathered in her beautiful eyes, her voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, none of what happened was your fault," Jamie insisted. How could she even think that?

"I should've been able to do something, I should've been able to stop him from taking you-"

"Eddie," he interrupted. "You did all you could. You did even more than you know you did." Eddie just stared at him. "At my worst moments, when the pain was so bad and I wanted to beg for death, I thought of you. I thought of your smile, of the way you make me laugh, how much you love being a cop. I thought of you, and I forced myself to hold on, because I needed to see you again. I couldn't die without telling you how much you mean to me." He paused for a moment, gathering his courage to say the words he'd needed to say for a long time. "I love you, Eddie. I couldn't die without telling you that."

"Oh, Jamie," Eddie let out with a sob, but her smile showed the nature of her tears. "I've been so scared every single day, because I thought I wouldn't get to tell you the truth. I thought you would be gone and I would never be able to tell you that I love you too. I love you so much, Jamie." She leaned forward, and Jamie pushed himself up as much as he could, knowing that the moment he'd dreamt of for so long was finally about to occur.

Eddie snaked a hand behind his head, gently holding him up, and kissed him. Jamie kissed her back, one hand managing to make its way up to her soft hair. He still felt so weak, but in her arms he was strong. Nothing mattered but the way her lips felt against his. Nothing mattered but breathing in each other and basking in the truth that both of them had been denying for so long. Nothing mattered but them.

"So that's the real reason why you wanted me to leave."

Eddie finally pulled away from him, an embarrassed smile on her face. Their hands were still intertwined. Jamie couldn't help but match her grin. He woke up from a coma and kissed the love of his life. It was a pretty good day.

Danny laughed again. "I'm not gonna rat you out to anyone," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. He once again took the seat next to Eddie, grinning just as widely as Jamie. "Today is a day for good things. Dad is on his way down, so is Erin. They'll be here as soon as they can."

"How much of that did you see?" Eddie asked, looking nervously between Jamie and Danny.

"Enough," Danny replied with a shrug. "I'm not surprised, and neither will anyone else that you let know about you. But that's neither here nor there," he said with a wave of his hand. "What I care about, right now, is you." He pointed at Jamie. "And that you're okay. Nothing else matters to me." He stared at Jamie more intently than he could ever remember. Their relationship had gone up and down over the years, but Jamie had never doubted how much his big brother cared about him. Still, it was very rare for him to actually see just how much Danny did care. In that moment, love was all he saw in his brother's eyes.

"I'm gonna be fine," Jamie assured him. He wasn't naive enough to believe that he would be fine immediately. He knew that he had a long recovery ahead of him, both mentally and physically, but he also knew that with his family by his side, he was going to be just fine.

"You're damn right you will be," Danny replied, lightly smacking the edge of the bed and looking up with just his eyes, as if to avoid an emotional response. Jamie didn't think he'd seen Danny get emotional since Joe's funeral. It was strange, seeing his brother trying to avoid getting too emotional over him. It wasn't that Danny had never shown that he cared, just that he always stoic about it, only letting his true emotions shine through in the worst moments. Jamie supposed him getting kidnapped and tortured probably counted as a worst moment.

A moment later, a doctor came in and checked on all of Jamie's vital signs and monitors. He was a gruff man, keeping conversation to a minimum, only informing them that everything was looking good and he had no expectations that Jamie wouldn't make a full recovery.

He left shortly after, reminding them that all they needed to do to get a nurse was push the call button. As his quiet footsteps receded, the quick clicks of high heels coming down the hall replaced them.

"Oh, Jamie," Erin breathed out as she rushed into the room. She tossed her purse on the small table, knocking over the empty cup of coffee. "I left as soon as I got the call. How are you feeling? I'm so glad you're okay," she said, sitting on the edge of Danny's seat.

"Right now, I'm fine," Jamie answered honestly, although he didn't make any move to sit up. Part of him wanted to reach out, at least hold his sister's hand, but he was exhausted. And besides, he was still holding Eddie's hand. "Morphine is a hell of a drug."

Erin gave him a look, but smiled and nodded nonetheless. "Whatever it takes to help you." She glanced pointedly at his and Eddie's joined hands. It was more than her hand on top of his. Their fingers were intertwined, a clear display of something more than friendship. "When did this happen?" she asked with a smile.

Danny groaned. "We are not talking about their love life right now," he said. Jamie couldn't help but smile, especially when Eddie laughed. She had such a beautiful laugh. All Jamie wanted to do was listen to it.

With a roll of her eyes, Erin turned to the others. "Eddie, how's the leg?" she asked, glancing down at her cast. It was asked as more of an afterthought than anything else, but Jamie still appreciated it. Erin and Eddie didn't really know each other, but they were the two most important women in his life, and he needed them to love each other like he loved them. Jamie had a feeling that he and Eddie were going to be in it together for the long haul, now that they'd both admitted what they'd felt for so long.

"It feels fine," Eddie responded with a smile. "Doctor said the cast can come off in about five weeks."

"You might have it off before I'm even out of here," Jamie said with a grin. Really, he was only half kidding.

"Please don't joke about that," Erin replied with a cringe, scowling at Danny as he began to chuckle. "It might actually be true."

"Nah," Jamie said with a shake of his head as he settled further into the pillows. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, but he didn't want to look away from his family. If he closed his eyes, he might wake up back in Nowak's basement and find it was all a dream. Even just thinking about that possibility made him shiver under all of the blankets. He was glad no one noticed. "They can't keep me here longer than a week, week and a half, tops," he claimed. Jamie wasn't stupid enough to think that signing out AMA too early was a good idea, but he also didn't want to stay in the hospital longer than he absolutely had to. He figured after a week, maybe a week and a half if he was unlucky, he would be well enough to go.

"We'll see about that," came a deep voice from the door. His dad stepped forward with a smile, his hands in his pockets. Glancing out the door, Jamie saw his father's detail waiting just outside.

"Commissioner," Eddie greeted, immediately straightening up as much as she could. Jamie wouldn't let her take her hand away from his. He held on even tighter, and she didn't try to let go.

"At ease," the commissioner said with a wave of his hand and a smile. He took a few slow steps further into the room, until he was at the foot of the hospital bed, resting his hands together on what served as the footboard. "I'm not here as the commissioner, only as a father, desperate to see his son." He looked straight at Jamie as he spoke. Jamie quickly blinked away the tears that sprung to his eyes. He hadn't been sure if was ever going to see his father again.

"We should give him a minute," Danny muttered around a sigh, clearly not wanting to actually leave. He stood from his seat, but leaned over Jamie slightly and rested an hand on his arm, a few inches above where Jamie and Eddie's hands were still intertwined. "I'll be back soon, kiddo. I promise," he said. At Jamie's nod, Danny gave his arm a slight squeeze, then grabbed Eddie's crutches from leaning up against the wall. He held them out to her. "You too, kid."

"I'll be right back, Jamie," Eddie said. She lifted up Jamie's hand to her lips, and gave him a light kiss before smiling that gorgeous smile and accepting her crutches from Danny. As she walked away, it felt like a part of Jamie was walking away too.

"Don't go anywhere," Erin told him with a smile as she too stood up.

"Now who's making jokes," Jamie chuckled. Erin just continued to smile as she followed Danny and Eddie out of the room, leaving only Jamie and his father there.

Taking slow, deliberate steps, he walked towards the seat closest to Jamie, and sat down with an exaggerated groan.

"You have no idea how amazing it is to see you awake, son," he said. He was relaxed in the seat, but Jamie could tell that he was itching to move closer. If his dad decided to move closer, Jamie wouldn't mind.

"It's good to be awake," Jamie replied, despite knowing that he couldn't be awake much longer. He was getting more and more exhausted by the minute. "I could hear everything going on, what everyone said," he mentioned.

His dad nodded. "Then I assume Danny told you everything, about Nowak?"

"Hopefully he'll get real help this time," Jamie said. Despite everything that Nowak did to him, he meant it. He knew it wasn't completely the man's fault. Besides, his mother had always said if any of her children would become a priest, it would've been Jamie. That had never been something that Jamie had sought after, but his Catholic faith had helped him a lot during trying parts of his life - being kidnapped and tortured was a prime example of one such time.

After a long moment, the commissioner continued, saying in a low, thick voice, "I'm so sorry this happened to you." Jamie knew that was his dad's way of saying that he felt like it was all his fault too. The man was hunched over in his seat, his hands hanging between his knees, and head hanging low. "None of this should've happened." He shook his head and sighed.

"It's not your fault," Jamie quickly replied. He tried to shake his head, but found he was too exhausted. He settled for just staring at his dad, and hoping the man saw the truth in his eyes. "None of it was your fault."

"I'm your father, therefore I'm responsible for you," he responded, saying it like one would state any cold, hard, fact.

"Dad, I'm not exactly a kid anymore-."

"But you'll always be my kid," he interrupted. "Doesn't matter how old you get."

"You can't look out for me twenty-four-seven," Jamie said. It wasn't anyone's fault but Nowak's, and even then it wasn't entirely his fault either. "Sometimes thing's just happen, and there's nothing anyone can do about it." He lightly shook his head, that being all he could manage. This was a conversation he and his father needed to have, and it needed to happen before he fell asleep, which was going to happen soon, whether he liked it or not.

His dad sighed. "That doesn't mean I have to like it," he said. "The time that you were gone, while we knew what was happening to you but couldn't do anything about it." He shook his head. "I wouldn't wish that feeling of helplessness on my worst enemy."

"You don't have a worst enemy," Jamie replied with a smile. Even the people who hated his father still respected him - except for maybe Nowak, but that was different.

"If only that were true," he muttered.

"It doesn't matter." With all of the energy he had left, Jamie lifted up his hand and reached out towards his father, who quickly took a light hold of it in his own larger hand. "I'm gonna be fine, and it's over. That's what's important."

"That's more important than anything," his dad quickly responded, placing his other hand atop Jamie's as well. He gave it a light squeeze to emphasize his words. "Nothing is more important than that." He took a deep breath before continuing, as if he were psyching himself up to say something. "I know I don't say it a lot, as a father. We don't say it a lot as a family, really. Not as often as we should, at least, but that doesn't make it any less true. I love you, Jamie, more than anything. You, and your brother, and your sister. You mean the world to me. Losing Joe, so soon after losing your mother." He stopped with a light sigh. "I can't do that again. I cannot go through that, again. It would kill me. So yes. Getting you back is the most important thing. I would have done anything, truly anything, to have gotten you back sooner. But you are back now, and you're going to be okay, and that is all that matters." He nodded, his eyes shining with emotion, and gave Jamie's hand another light squeeze.

"I love you too, Dad," Jamie said. "It's because of you guys that I know I'm gonna be okay. Because I know you're gonna be with me. You and Danny and Erin and Eddie. You're all gonna be with me no matter what." Of that, Jamie had no doubt. The Reagans held together and always stood strong, through thick and through thin, always. There was never a time when they didn't stand together, and that was never going to change.

"You're damn right," his dad answered with a smile, then gave him a more typical stern, fatherly look. "You should get some rest."

Jamie wanted to protest, but he knew his father was right. He also knew that his fears of waking up back in Nowak's basement were completely unfounded. This was real, he was here, he was alive, and he was never going to see Nowak again. His family was going to be there when he woke up, just like they promised. The Reagans always kept their promises.

"Fine," he muttered, settling further into the blankets.

"I will be here when you wake up," his dad said.

"I know you will." His whole family was going to be there. There was nothing that Jamie was more certain of.

As Jamie closed his eyes and drifted back off into nothingness, a steady pressure remained on his hand. It was his dad's hand, holding his the same way he had done when Jamie was a little kid, sick in the hospital with pneumonia. It was just as comforting as an adult. His dad was there, right with him, and he wasn't going to leave. He was going to be okay, and his family was always going to make sure of that.


End file.
